HP and the Temporal Boundary Invasions RELOADED
by cosmic-cube-keeper
Summary: COMPLETE, over 100,000 hits! Harry is pulled back in time to the 3rd task after defeating Voldemort. Momentarily confused, he sets out to make a few changes. Stumbling on a powerful magical artifact, however, sends him off in a few VERY unexpected directions. Harry/OMC, SLASH!
1. Introduction

"_Harry is pulled back in time to the 3rd task after defeating Voldemort. Momentarily confused, he sets out to make a few changes. Stumbling on a powerful magical artifact, however, sends him off in a few VERY unexpected directions."_

_DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters are not mine, nor are parts of the plot. This is written purely for my amusement, I earn nothing financially by its production. I give a nod to JK Rowling, and many thanks for sharing the Harry Potter world with us._

_FANFICTION WARNING: Like all my fan fictions, there will be slash, and numerous crossovers, and probably a few other annoyances (at least to some readers). OOC a possibility, a very strong possibility. Harry/many! Live!Cedric, Powerful!harry, Dark!Harry, mostly disregards books 5, 6, and 7, although touching on some concepts. Expect spoilers from "Sunshine" (2007), "Avatar" (2009), The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim (2011). Additional crossovers may be included, and citations will appear when needed._

_Without further ado, I present, "Harry Potter and the Temporal Boundary Invasions, RELOADED"_

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

...The pair cleared the door leading into the Icarus II's payload—the enormous bomb destined to restart the sun—and simply dropped like two sacks of stones, the trail of black smoke dissipating. Both sprawled out on the floor, knocked a little silly. Voldemort regained his bearings a little quicker, and instantly went for his wand. Harry, who was still down, scrambled for his as well, but Voldemort was one step ahead. "_Avada kedavra!_"

Harry saw his life flash in front of him, twice. Bill, Cedric, Matt... Ron, Hermione... Jake, Neytiri, Mo'at, Tsu'tey... Mace, Capa... He'd failed. Everything hinged on his success here, and he'd failed. Only thing he could do, was greet death honestly. Now he would at last be with mum and dad, Sirius, Remus, and the new friends who had died for him or because of him. He resigned himself to his fate, waiting for the blast of green magic.

It never came...


	2. A Plot Foiled

_CHAPTER WARNINGS: Spoilers for "Deathly Hallows", "Order of the Phoenix", "Goblet of Fire", coarse language, some violence, slash(!)._

**Harry Potter**

**AND THE **

**TEMPORAL BOUNDARY INVASIONS**

**PART I: "THRICE DEFIED"**

**I: A PLOT FOILED  
Or, The end is the beginning**

"Avada kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

It sounded like a cannon blast as the green jet from the Elder Wand collided with Harry's spell, and an instant later, a very haggard Harry Potter looked down on the empty shell that had been the worst dark wizard in recent history.

He slumped down on the steps rising up to the dais upon which the veil still fluttered freely, the voices whispering from behind it. Somewhere in there, in amongst all those voices, was Sirius. "Mum, dad, I did it," he whispered, rising to his shaky feet.

There was nothing left to live for. The gaping hole in the ceiling of the death chamber said it all. Magical Britain had been for the most part obliterated, the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy breached beyond recovery. The Muggle world had suffered far greater atrocities at the hand of Voldemort. Shouts from above and out in the ruined corridor warned the Boy-Who-Lived—now very much a man, he had little time left.

He had been on the run for several years, as the patch-work Wizarding government had declared him the number one undesirable. Through their lies and manipulations, the Muggle government saw him equally as a serious threat, resulting in numerous close calls with British authorities. He remembered hearing one particular news cast, warning citizens _Do not approach, considered armed and dangerous, to contact authorities at once…_ what rubbish!

He was drawn back to the present, as the shouts became quite clear: "HARRY POTTER… DROP THE WAND AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"

'Not on your life,' Harry cursed to himself, as he approached the fluttering veil. 'Mum, dad, Cedric, Sirius, I'm coming,' he whispered, his hand almost touching the ratty fabric suspended in the arch way. The voices were speaking loudly now, although it was hard to decipher exactly what was being said, due to the number.

"HARRY POTTER. STOP WHERE YOU ARE!" came another shout, this time, from the entrance to the death chamber.

"Not on your life," said Harry again, coldly, and stepped into the fluttering veil to fade from the mortal plane.

* * *

Harry was unsure of what to expect stepping into the veil, but, it felt like a port key. 'Wait… what am I holding?' he thought, and dared open his eyes. 'Merlin's Balls!' Tightly in his grip was the Tri-Wizard Cup! That meant…

He was suddenly slammed into the ground, and an uncomfortable moan beside him was all the confirmation he needed.

"Did anyone tell you it was a port key?"

"What? Err, no," answered Harry, daring to look at the speaker. He had to force himself to remain composed, as green eyes locked with grey ones. "Wands out," he declared, fishing his holly wand out. He'd missed that wand. 'That foul Umbridge woman…' Cedric had already drawn his own, and both teens got to their feet cautiously. Then Harry's memories took firm hold.

"Cedric, take my arm," said Harry, trusting his instinct, "The port key was a trap!"

"How do you know?"

"Just trust me… listen, someone's coming, he'll KILL you!"

"All right, I trust you," answered Cedric, gripping Harry's arm, just as a dark shape emerged from one of the tombs. "Kill the spare," came the high, cold voice, as Harry twisted on the spot, his scar already exploding in pain. Both Tri-Wizard champions vanished with an angry CRACK which sent a flock of crows on a nearby tree flapping into the night. A bolt of green magic passed through the spot Cedric had been standing in a fraction of a second earlier, to slam into a headstone.

"NOOOO!" came a shout to the night, which fell on deaf ears.

The two teens appeared at the gates of the school, the closest either of them could get to Hogwarts by apparition. His scar was still tingling, and he quickly looked himself over to be sure he hadn't splinched himself—of course, it had been a number of years since that had been a concern. How had this happened? Why did he not just… pass on?

"Harry… you just…" Cedric began, bewildered. It pulled Harry rapidly back to the present.

"I know, I know… just, trust me, terrible things would have happened, had we stayed. If anyone asks—you know how to apparate?"

"Of course, although I have yet to actually get my license."

"If anyone asks, you apparated us back to the school… I'd rather people not know I can do so."

"Okay, Harry, but you owe me an explanation of what's going on."

"I promise you, Ced. Best we get back to the Quidditch pitch, let people know what's going on. And Cedric. Stay away from Moody, he's not who we think he is—AAAAAAAAH!!!" Harry's scar again flared in white-hot pain. Voldemort was beyond angry.

Harry and Cedric quickly made their way back to the Quidditch pitch, where the crowds were still gathered, waiting for the champions to return. It was a shock to everyone, as the two teens entered through the back entrance.

"Harry! How did you come to be there?" questioned Dumbledore.

"Sir, the Tri-Wizard cup was a trap, a port key. Cedric… he was almost killed… he grabbed me and—"

"Apparated us as close to the school as I could get," answered the older champion, covering for Harry.

"Professor, Voldemort tried to get his body back tonight… the entire tournament was a trap!" Harry exclaimed, fighting urges to spill more than he should know. There was a sharp intake of breath as several people close to him heard the Dark Lord's name. Cedric's father was already whispering softly to his son, while Dumbledore was eyeing Harry carefully. What had happened?

"The boys have been through an ordeal, allow me to take them back up to the castle, have them looked over by Madam Pomfrey perhaps," offered Professor Moody. He found himself staring at the business end of Harry's wand.

"You'll do well not to come within a hundred miles of me, Crouch!" Harry hissed. He'd almost slipped into speaking parseltongue. A look of shock crossed the professor's face for a fraction of a second, before he recovered. "The boy's obviously delirious," he declared.

"Prove you're not Crouch!" Harry hissed again, his hand wrapped so tightly around his wand his knuckles were turning white. "Swear to it! Swear it on your magic, here and now!"

"There's no need for that kind of behaviour toward a professor, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, standing behind the group.

"Trust me, he's no professor," Harry ground out, "Now swear it!"

"Perhaps it would be best to entertain the brat," Snape drawled. Crouch knew he was in trouble. How had the brat discovered his secret? His wand was out in a flash. 'Perhaps if I kidnap the brat—' he had no chance to finish the thought, as he was nailed with at least three stunning curses.

"I daresay, perhaps we should adjourn this to my office," said Dumbledore. It wasn't a request. "Severus, please fetch me the strongest truth serum you have, and join me there."(1)

The resultant meeting was truly an eye-opener, more for the staff than Harry. It was an eerie feeling, watching 'Moody' transform back into Barty Crouch, Jr. As soon as the transformation was finished, Severus forced Crouch's mouth open, administered three drops of Veritaserum, and the group waited for it to take effect. Dumbledore finally pointed his wand at the impostor. "Rennervate!(2)"

Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly. The man's eyelids flickered. "Yes," he muttered.

"Where is Alastor Moody?"

"In his trunk in my office."

The questioning continued while Professor McGonagall went to Moody's office, to free the real Alastor Moody. Harry was at war with himself mentally, so not to reveal too much of what he knew. How was it possible, that he had come back to this time with all his knowledge and memories intact? A twenty-six year old mind in a fourteen-going-on-fifteen-year-old body? 'Bloody hell, I'm gonna go spare!'

A more interesting revelation came when Crouch was questioned regarding the meeting at the beginning of the year.

"Yes, Pettigrew was there," answered Crouch, when asked about whether a certain rat had been present. Further questions revealed the true miscarriage of justice.

"That… that means… oh dear Merlin…" Fudge was astounded at the revelation.

"Yes, Minister, an innocent man was sent to rot in Azkaban for twelve fucking years," Harry spat.

"Mr. Potter! You will NOT use such language!" McGonagall scolded harshly.

"S-sorry. But I have to ask the Minister, what he intends to do about it."

"And what stake might you have in Mr. Black's case, Potter?" questioned Fudge, sourly. 'If this hits the Prophet, heads will roll,' he thought, 'probably starting with mine.'

"Maybe the tiny little fact he's my godfather," Harry shot back, "What, did you think I wouldn't know that? There are some people around here that make an attempt at being honest with me. I'll spell it out so there can't be any misunderstanding. I have a job to do. Either help me to do it, or stay out of my way. That means, no secrets. No manipulations. No tricks."

"What are you implying, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore, uneasily. 'It's too soon,' he thought, 'The boy cannot know the secret just yet!'

"I think you know, sir. I asked you at the end of first year, in the hospital wing. Why did Voldemort want to kill me? So now I'm asking again. I have a RIGHT to know what I'm fighting."

"Harry, I do agree with you, however, at this very moment is not quite the time for that kind of discussion. If you will give me a few days. I promise you we shall meet again before the end of term, so you may get answers to some of your questions."

"I will hold you to it, sir."

"For now, let's get you down for a check up with Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall decided, "Since it appears we have gained all the information we will from Mr. Crouch." Harry nodded, and made his way to the door. He was about to open it, but stopped. "Oh, and by the way, Minister," Harry spoke, taking his hand off the door handle, "You might want to keep the Dementors away from Barty here, I would like to see him get a proper trial." His unspoken warning carried strongly in his voice.

The Hospital wing was still slightly busy, with the other three champions still in beds, being looked after by the resident healer. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were crowded around their son's bed, looking more than relieved Cedric was okay. 'That was an understatement,' he thought to himself. He realized then and there, it was one of the things that truly broke him—that, and the death of Sirius, with the death of Dumbledore a close third. The thing was, 'what now?' Everything he knew of the previous timeline… likely went completely out the window. Voldemort had not been able to regain a body. Cedric was still alive. Most importantly, Fudge knew of Pettigrew's treachery.

"I was wondering when to expect you, Harry," said Madam Pomfrey, "You may take that bed." She pointed to a bed between Cedric's and the real Alastor Moody.

"Will… will he be okay?" questioned Harry, gesturing to the sleeping man.

"He'll be just fine," answered the matron, handing him a pair of pyjamas, and pulling the screen around the bed. Just then, he heard the door to the hospital wing open, and voices burst into the room.

"Harry?!" 'Of course, Hermione,' Harry thought to himself. He had sorely missed her for the past few years.

"Over here, guys," Harry called.

A crowd of bodies made their way around the curtain. Most of the Weasleys were there, as was Hermione, and a large black dog. He wasted no time leaping up onto the bed, looking at Harry expectantly. Seeing the faces of his dear friends, and those he considered family brought a broad smile to his face. In fact, thinking of the current situation, for a fleeting moment, he felt like the cat who had caught the canary.

The early hours of the next morning, Harry felt someone settle down beside him in the bed; he didn't need to wonder who it was, as an arm snaked across his torso. He let out a sigh, and did not wake again until the light was streaming through the windows.

While Harry slept, Albus Dumbledore was still wide awake, sitting in his office, having viewed the memory of the evening's event at least three times in the pensieve. Something had changed in Harry, something profound. Something which had nothing to do with the unscheduled port key trip to Little Hangleton—he had sent some of his most trusted friends to investigate—no, something had changed Harry. It would be imperative to have that discussion sooner rather than later, Dumbledore decided. Fawkes, the bright red phoenix resting on his perch seemed to agree, letting out a pleasant trill. "Yes, I know, we must have his trust, Fawkes. What he wants to know is something I had really hoped I could hold off for perhaps one more year."

"You'll do no good keeping the boy in the dark forever, Albus," the portrait of Armando Dippet scolded, "You're handling young Potter in a similar way to that of Riddle; surely one Dark Lord is enough."

"Harry will never turn to the dark arts," said Dumbledore, with conviction, "His capacity to love will never allow it." He collected the memory floating in the pensieve back into a vial, then dumped the contents of yet another. The memory which he was most reluctant to show Harry. It was the one thing that set everything into motion. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in, Minerva," said Albus. The door opened, revealing the deputy headmistress. "It seems I am not the only one up in the wee hours of the morning."

"Indeed, Albus. I've just come from the hospital wing. The Diggory boy wasted no time deserting his own bed to share Potter's."

"Is that so?" questioned Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling again. Of course he knew all about the two champions' numerous rendezvous after hours. He was the headmaster after all.

"It would have been a true disaster, had one of them been killed," McGonagall declared, "I don't need to spell it out, do I?"

"No, of course not. It's only by Mr. Diggory's quick reaction they escaped. I do believe there will be a few adjustments to house points in light of last night's events, yes."

"Oh, Albus, I don't think we should be worrying about house points and the like, considering the dark implications. How could you not have known one of your most trusted friends was in fact a Death Eater?"

"It's something I have trouble answering, Minerva. And, it's something that will not happen again. Perhaps I need to revise a few procedures for the staff, in light of this error on my part."

"It's best you do. I really do not wish to take on your responsibilities full-time. I do have one question. Did you notice the change in Potter's behaviour? I was quite taken aback hearing him use such dreadful language earlier, in front of the Minister, no less. What are your thoughts on this?"

"Somewhat. He seems to have suddenly developed a bit of an edge. I'm certainly puzzled as to what might have brought it on."

"I've not known Potter to take that sort of tone, at least not against one of us. In hindsight, he was right, but, how did he know it wasn't Moody?" questioned McGonagall.

"I ask the same question. Perhaps when I meet with him, I will be sure to ask. Information, after all, is a two way street, is it not? Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, gesturing to the candy dish resting on the corner of the desk, from which he plucked a candy.

When Harry next woke, a smile crept onto his face. Not only was Sirius curled up at the foot of the bed as Padfoot, his Animagus form, Cedric had climbed into his bed as well, and now lay beside Harry, an arm draped across his chest as though to protect the younger boy. 'Younger boy?' Harry almost snorted, 'Bloody hell, how did this happen?' he thought to himself. What would Hermione say? What would Dumbledore think? 'No,' Harry thought, 'There are a good number of people who can't ever know what's happened.' Yet, how was he going to explain the previous night's actions to Cedric? Yes, it was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. 'Then again,' thought Harry, 'If I can't trust Cedric, who CAN I trust?' He dug into his recent memories, quickly sorting out the events of the previous evening—he would have done so much sooner, had Madam Pomfrey not dosed him with a strong dreamless sleep potion.

It had taken him several years to fully grasp Occlumency and its reciprocal, Legilimency. Sure, the art was heavily-restricted by the Ministry, but that had never stopped Harry before, considering that, beginning the middle of what would have been his fifth year, he became a fugitive. The Ministry pursued him relentlessly, and far worse once Voldemort took over. He knew more than a few dark curses, each one of them would make his friends or the Order cringe.

Harry was woken up by someone gently prodding at his ribs. "Harry, mate…"

"Mmmm?" He moaned, then smiled as Cedric's face filled his vision.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better, now," answered Harry.

"Can we talk?"

"Now's as good a time as any." Harry gestured with his hand. At Cedric's curious glance, he said, "Privacy charm."

"Wandless?"

"Uh huh. One of a few things I can do now. Cedric, something happened to me, last night… when we were port keyed out of the maze."

"So I noticed."

"I need a wizard's oath that you won't reveal what I'm about to tell you to anyone." He nudged the large black dog at his feet. "You too, Padfoot… I know you're listening." The dog seemed to make a sigh, hopped off the bed, and transformed back into Sirius. "What…"

"The oath first, please, both of you."

"All right," his godfather nodded, producing his wand. "I, Sirius Orion Black, swear on my magic, that I shall not reveal any of the following conversation to anyone for any reason." A swirl of golden magic wafted from Sirius' chest, to hover over Harry's head.

"So mote it be."

Once Cedric gave his oath, Harry gave an abbreviated and highly edited account of the future, earning more than a few shocked looks from his boyfriend and his godfather. He hated to admit it, but it just wouldn't be safe telling Ron or Hermione, at least not at this point. As loyal as they were, as the old saying goes, 'loose lips sink ships'. Even though he could get a magical oath from them, the fewer people who knew, the better, at least for the time being. Harry knew he would eventually need to tell them—it was only fair.

Just then, he felt the ward he had erected around the screen vibrate—someone had just entered the hospital wing. With a quick gesture from his hand, he banished the privacy charm and the ward. "Mischief managed," he whispered.

"What was that for?"

"It ends the conversation covered by your oaths," answered Harry. Moments later, the screen parted and Madam Pomfrey appeared. Sirius had once again changed into Padfoot, but Harry could swear the dog was grinning at the use of the Marauders' secret code. The matron pursed her lips at the sight of the two boys cuddled in one bed.

"I should have known I would find the both of you in one bed. Up you get, the both of you. I don't believe I need to keep either of you here any longer," she declared, gesturing at both teens with her wand. She nodded, then left the screen.

The ride back to London was much better than the first time around, as Cedric now sat in the compartment with Harry and his two closest friends. A sack of coins rested between them, but a decision had already been made on what to do with it. Harry had wanted to put a strong locking charm on the door, but that would prevent the twins from visiting. No, he would allow Malfoy and his cronies to visit as well—not that he would have any issues handling him.

When the train at last arrived at King's Cross, Harry and Cedric pulled the twins aside.

"Guys… we want you to have this," said Harry, thrusting the sack of coins into George's hand.

"Err…" Fred was stunned, as was his brother.

"We think you will get much better use out of it than we will," said Cedric.

"Mental," said George.

"Both of them," Fred added.

"Guys, no, we're not… it's just… look, the entire tournament's left a bad taste in both our mouths—for different reasons, but… just take it… get inventing. Use it for the joke shop."

"Yup, definitely mental," said Fred.

"Look, guys, we're serious," said Cedric, "If you don't take it, Harry's gonna dump it down the drain."

"You wouldn't!"

"The nerve!"

"And get Ron some better dress robes," said Harry, "And whatever you do, don't tell your mum where you got it… I might like to live to see adulthood."

Stepping through the barrier, Harry found uncle Vernon waiting as had been the case the first time around, Mrs. Weasley waiting close by. "I think Dumbledore will let you come visit later in the summer. Do keep in touch, Harry," the Weasley matriarch spoke, gently.

"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.

"Bye, Harry, be sure to write me, okay?" said Hermione. Unlike the first time around, there was no kiss on the cheek. Instead, they embraced tightly.

"Harry… Cedric, thanks," said George, quietly, while Fred grinned madly at his side. Harry winked at them, then turned to face Cedric, while the Weasleys headed off as a group.

"I'll come see you in a few days, Harry."

"I'll not… there won't—" Vernon sputtered, but Harry glared at him. "WE will be having a conversation when we get back to Surry," said Harry, icily, then turned back to Cedric. "That will be great!" After a strong embrace and a kiss on the forehead, Cedric too, went his own way, leaving Harry standing with his uncle.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: I don't do this often, as I don't believe you the reader needs his/her hand held. Once in a while, though, I feel it is necessary._

_Once again, this is a re-start to "Temporal Boundary Invasions", so a few chapters will be similar/identical. Everything changes in chapter 5, so bear with me.  
_

_As always, my favourite Non-canon pairing is Harry/Cedric. In my last three major fictions, they've been featured as a past relationship. This time around, they are the primary pairing. Goody goody! As always, love to hear your thoughts on the opening, and of course, open to suggestions as well. And, if there's someone in the audience who might want to become a beta, give me a shout!_

_(1) Taken from GoF, verbatim text._

_(2) There is so much ambiguity with the spelling of this spell, but I'm going with the Lexicon's spelling, as it seems to best match the etymology of the action._


	3. Laying A New Foundation

_All right… in case it wasn't clear the first time… there is __S.L.A.S.H. in this story. As in, wand-on-wand, boy on boy. Just so there's an understanding there._

_CAU__TION: Coarse language, violence, major spoilers for "Half Blood Prince"._

**II:LAYING A NEW FOUNDATION  
Or, the "M" word and what it means for the Dursleys**

**

* * *

**As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, Harry wasted no time exiting the vehicle, and retrieving his trunk from the boot.

"Now you listen here, boy," Vernon began, "There will be no—"

"What, funny business? I am going to store my trunk in my room, and then you, your wife, your son, and I will be having a conversation," said Harry, his voice cold and even. Vernon began to sputter at the indignation, but one look at the green ice chips that were Harry's eyes made him think otherwise. He huffed, then stormed into the house.

Once Harry had stored his school trunk in his room, he made sure his wand was once again stuffed in the waistband of his pants, then trekked back down the stairs to the lounge, where, surprisingly, the Dursleys had complied, and were waiting.

"I need you all to listen to me, and listen carefully," said Harry, gesturing with his hand at the coffee table, where a pitcher of iced tea appeared, along with four glasses, causing his relatives to whimper. "You'll notice I didn't use my wand to conjure up this lovely service—do feel free to have some, by the way—" Harry gestured to the wand, still stuck in the waistband of his pants.

"You… you can't use magic out of school!" Vernon sputtered, "They'll—"

"What, expel me? No, I think not," said Harry, his voice rather light, "See, I'm needed. Voldemort almost came back… thanks to me, he didn't get his body back… but next time we won't be so lucky, and it'll be up to me, and me only to defeat him. So I'll make this very clear. I have things to do. I will stay out of your way, and you'll stay out of mine. It's that simple. If you want me to take care of the gardens and so on, fine. But it'll be done MY way. Just imagine, aunt Petunia, you could have the best garden in the neighbourhood, if you'll let me use dragon dung… makes the plants grow like crazy."

"You'll NOT be using—"

"Oh, Vernon… perhaps if we just… very well, boy, I'll leave you… just don't let me SEE you actually doing any of your freakish things," said Petunia, still obviously uncomfortable with the idea.

"You do know about the wards on the house, right? All of you?"

"W-wards?" Dudley squeaked.

"Yes. Very powerful protections wrought by ancient magic. Look, if I fail, our world will be fucked over three ways from Sunday. Do you really want that?"

"What—how dare—what do you…" Vernon sputtered, the vein on his forehead pumping a furious purple. Petunia was equally appalled by Harry's choice of words.

"Dudley… you and your friends will do well to keep away from me from here on out… I won't put up with your dragon shit any more. This is your one warning." Harry poured himself a glass of iced tea, and took a swig. "I don't like making a bunch of demands and ultimatums, but it seems that's the only thing you understand. All I ask for is to be left alone, and perhaps treated civilly. Is that really too much to ask?" He downed the glass, and left the room.

Climbing the stairs and re-entering his room, he then opened Hedwig's cage, and let her out. "Hey, girl. Things are gonna be different this summer." The owl looked up at him, blinking her yellow eyes. "I'm not the boy they all expect me to be any more. It's time I made some of my own decisions." The owl blinked again, as if in understanding.

That evening, as he lay on his bed, having adjusted the room to better fit a growing wizard, he finally allowed his mind to wander back to the conversation he had had with Dumbledore the day before.

It was immediately following the leaving feast, when the headmaster had pulled Harry aside, inviting him up to the office for their chat.

"Harry, you have changed much this past year," said Dumbledore, as they seated themselves: Dumbledore behind his desk, Harry seated in a comfortable chair before it.

"I almost lost Cedric," said Harry, quietly.

"Yes, but you did not, Harry. I trust you two have made plans for the summer?"

"He's planning to visit me a few days after we get back," said Harry, "It definitely gives me something to look forward to at my relatives' place." He smiled easily, realizing once again, things had changed dramatically.

"Indeed, Harry," said Dumbledore, as they made eye contact. Harry had been expecting this, and carefully placed chosen memories up front for Dumbledore to see, namely some of the events in the graveyard, mixed with some uncomfortable memories of his life with the Dursleys. After a few moments, he felt Dumbledore withdraw.

"Harry, I know life with your relatives has been less than enjoyable, but you must understand, it is the only place where you will truly be safe."

"And what happens when I come of age, sir? Surely whatever protections you have will fail…"

"How did you come to know that, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned, and Harry once again felt the icy fingers of the headmaster's magic trying to see into his mind. More memories of his life with the Dursleys, this time of Dudley and his gang, enjoying their favourite pastime: Harry hunting. The prickly feeling quickly left.

"I dunno, I figured, there HAS to be some reason you insist on me staying there, right?"

"Indeed, Harry, you are correct," said Dumbledore, taking a lemon drop from the dish on the corner of his desk. "Lemon Drop?"

"No thank you," Harry declined, then continued, "Sir, what's so special about the protections at my relatives?"

"It has everything to do with the scar on your forehead. Remember what happened to professor Quirrell when you touched him?" Harry nodded. "It is all about the powerful protection which flows through your blood Harry. Your mother's love. As long as you call your aunt's house your home—"

"But sir, I've never really considered it such. They only see me as a freak!"

"I know, dear boy, how I know. I do wish there was a better solution, but as long as Voldemort remains a threat, it is our only choice."

"But… how was he able to survive?"

"Indeed, that is truly the question now, isn't it?" Dumbledore reached into his desk, and pulled out the destroyed diary that belonged to Tom Riddle. "This may be our clue, and if it is anything like I suspect, we are truly in for a difficult fight."

"Sir, WHY?" Harry almost shouted, but it came out sharply. "Why is Voldemort trying to kill me?"

"Harry, you have to understand. I wished you to have a chance at some sort of childhood before you faced your destiny." Harry snorted at that comment. "And my childhood has been roses. Right."

"Harry, if there had been any other way, I would have done it. You must realize that," said Dumbledore. Of course, he was right, Harry gave him that much. "You have seen my pensieve, yes?" Harry nodded. Dumbledore rose, and pulled the pensieve out of the cabinet, and after placing it on the desk, collected a small vial from a large carousel containing what looked like thousands of little bottles. Each one of them contained a memory, or a stream of them.

As Dumbledore poured the contents of the vial into the pensieve, Harry stuck his finger in the silvery liquid, already fully aware of what he was about to see: a younger Sybill Trelawney speaking the dreaded prophecy which rested so heavily on his shoulders, all over again… _'…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…'_

Harry sat back in the chair, appearing to mull over what he had just heard. After a few moments, he let out a sigh, then declared, "I guess it shouldn't surprise me… I mean, he's come after me three times—err, make that four times already."

"Indeed, Harry."

"So why haven't you been preparing me, getting me ready? I would have rather been put into extra classes, training, you know, instead of dancing around the garden, with useless visions of a childhood I will never have. I'm going on fifteen years old, and what do I have to show for it? Perhaps next time we meet, I won't be so lucky."

"Harry, you lack faith in yourself," Dumbledore responded, "You have shown far more courage than I could have imagined. No, I think you will do more than admirably when the two of you next meet."

"I guess."

"However, your point is received. I will see about setting up some extra lessons, perhaps over the summer, but more than likely starting in September." Dumbledore paused for a few moments. "Harry, there is something that has held me curious since the third task. How is it you were aware of Barty Crouch's deception?"

"I saw it… through my scar… in the graveyard," answered Harry, "He had shown Voldemort his disguise. Sir, why didn't you know? I mean, you've known each other a long time, right?"

"Do forgive me, Harry, I am an old man, at times prone to mistakes," answered Dumbledore.

Harry bowed his head. It was hard to stay angry at the headmaster. The first time around, it had been he who had done his best to clear Harry's name, and get his education reinstated. He had gone to great lengths to ensure Harry still received an education. Glamour charms had been very handy in allowing him to stay in the castle at times, one of the many charms the headmaster taught him.

Yet, it had all ended tragically at the end of what would have been his sixth year. They had gone after a Horcrux Voldemort had hidden in a cave, using a most disturbing potion. Dumbledore had consumed all of it, allowing Harry to collect said Horcrux, but it had taken its toll. Returning to the castle, they were ambushed, and the overgrown bat of a potions master, with the assistance of Draco Malfoy, proved his true allegiance—it was only much later when Harry learned of the true motivations, and the fact Snape was in fact truly working on Dumbledore's instructions.

"A sickle for your thoughts, Harry?"

"Just thinking, is all. Thank you for showing me the memory, at least now I know the WHY. I guess in a way I feel relieved. Sir, like I said last time we met here, I just want people to be honest with me. I do have a right to that, do I not?"

"Indeed you do, Harry. You know, I am truly amazed at your maturity. You have handled this very well."

"I have to. If it's truly me or him… being childish about it won't get us anywhere." The elder wizard inclined his head, eyes once again twinkling madly. "Indeed, you are so right, Harry." A happy trill sounded, and Harry looked up to see Fawkes looking at him, perhaps agreeing with him? Wouldn't surprise him. "Hello Fawkes." He thought for a moment, then said, "Sir, if I need to send you a letter, may I call on Fawkes?"

"Of course. It might be wise to keep your correspondence to a minimum as it is, considering the uncertainty of events. Should you need a bit of extra company, feel free to call on him also."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you sir."

"You have forged a strong bond with Fawkes, a most unusual feat, Harry. Phoenixes do not usually form more than one bond at a time…"

Harry smirked to himself as the memory faded. Yes, Fawkes might be a very handy ally over the summer, as there were several things that would need attending to, and it would never do for some people to know about that. He didn't like the idea of deceiving the headmaster, yet, at the same time, there were things that, for the time being, Dumbledore could NOT know. He quickly sorted through the day's memories, closed his eyes, and at last allowed sleep to take him.

The following morning, he was woken by his aunt's shrill call. "Boy!? You up?"

"I'll be down in a minute, aunt Petunia," Harry answered sleepily. He summoned a pepper-up potion, downed it, slipped on a loose tee shirt and a pair of Dudley's cast-off jeans, and finally unlocked the door. Hedwig was gone, probably still out hunting.

"Good morning, aunt Petunia," said Harry. He would try and be civil, after all, right? His aunt scowled at him, and gestured to a plate sitting on the island. Some cold toast, a couple slices of bacon, and an egg.

"Thank you," said Harry, waving a hand over the plate. Steam instantly started rising off the now heated breakfast, which he carried to the table and took a seat. "I'll be out of the house most of the day. Wizard business and all," he added, seeing his aunt about to question. It had exactly the effect he wanted, as she closed her mouth and did not ask.

"I want you to… to continue tending the garden, boy," Petunia said. It was half way between asking and demanding. Harry only nodded, however, saying, "I'll be sure to pick up some items today that will do some amazing things for the garden. The neighbours will be jealous in a couple of weeks. One of my year mates loves herbology—err, the Wizarding equivalent of Horticulture. I'd ask him to come over, but…"

"As long as it's while Vernon's not home," said Petunia. Harry nodded. "I'll see if he's available sometime next week. Maybe get his ideas on what you might need… yeah, I'll have him help me with the garden supplies." Petunia nodded at that, and they fell silent.

"Why are you being so nice?" Petunia finally asked, still standing at the island counter, watching as he ate.

"Because you are blood, right? I mean, you haven't treated me well, but… if it wasn't for you… the world as we know it would be in big trouble. Voldemort hates Muggles. He'll kill as many as he can, if he ever gets the power he wants. And you'd be at the top of his list." Petunia seemed to become very pale for a moment, as the words sunk in. "I promise you… I will protect your family. If you will let me… I mean, you have done that much for me."

Petunia once again stared open-mouthed at her sister's son. This boy—or—young man was most definitely not a freak, she was beginning to see that now. Even after the way she and her family had treated him, he was still willing to do what was right. "Th-thank you, b-Harry." Harry only inclined his head, as he polished off the remainder of his breakfast.

"you're welcome. Now if you guys want me to cook breakfast tomorrow... let me know if there's stuff needed at the store. I'll go out later on, once I'm back from…"

"Diagon Alley," Petunia guessed.

"Yeah. I'll be back sometime this afternoon. In a way it's good you woke me up." Petunia inclined her head, and Harry gestured with his hand, banishing the plate to the sink. He then stepped out the back door into the back garden. 'Now… let's see if I remember how to do this…'

If it had been Diagon Alley, the sudden appearance of a trail of black smoke in the sky would have been truly frightening. Yet, this was Knockturn Alley, a place where that kind of thing might be expected. The black shape took a more solid form on the steps of Borgin & Burkes, a store known in darker circles to carry things the Ministry would most definitely not approve of.

Harry grinned a sinister grin, and stepped inside of said shop. He wasted no time locating the object of his visit that morning: a large cabinet that still stood against one wall. The same cabinet he had hidden in the summer before his second year, avoiding the Malfoys. Taking it wouldn't be that much of a problem.

"May I help you?" Harry recognized the oily-haired stooping man at once to be that of Mr. Borgin. He had expected to run into one of the shop owners at least.

"Yes, you just might," said Harry, thrusting a hand forward, "STUPEFY!" The shop keeper fell heavily to the floor, his head narrowly missing the edge of the counter by inches. He then knelt down beside the man, thinking carefully of the last few minutes, drawing his wand—the Ministry could not track who was casting magic in Diagon Alley, nor Knockturn Alley for that matter. "Obliviate." He then pointed his wand at the cabinet in question, shrinking it down to fit in his pocket. 'There. At least one disaster that can be averted,' Harry thought, then disapparated with a soft POP.

His next destination was Gringotts. He would need some money for his next destination, preferably a bit of wizard and Muggle currency. Once inside, he stepped up to the first open wicket. "I need to visit my vault, please," he said, sliding his key across the counter.

"Very well. Follow me, please," the goblin behind the wicket sneered, hopping down off the step stool he was standing on to see over the counter.

The trip down to his school vault was every bit as crazy as he remembered it, but having seen things far more insane in many ways, he didn't really mind it too much. "Vault six-eighty-seven," announced the goblin, "Key please." Harry quickly handed the goblin his key, and the door was unlocked. Harry wasted no time collecting a sack full of galleons. He noted the pile was still almost as large as it had been the first time he had seen it.

"Mr. Potter, you are aware of your inheritance, of course," the goblin spoke.

"I'll get it when I'm seventeen."

"Now we both know, Mr. Potter, you are older than seventeen."

"Excuse me?"

"When it comes to issues of inheritance, we are very thorough," the goblin sneered, "We do take our business here very seriously. Once you are finished here, you will be meeting with Griphook."

"Of course, I remember him." Harry quickly finished collecting the coins he thought he would need, then returned to the cart.

As expected, Griphook was waiting for them when the cart returned to the surface. Harry was led into one of the back rooms.

"I won't take much of your time, Mr. Potter. We only need your signature on a few documents." Harry only nodded, and signed where indicated.

"Wait a minute. If you guys can detect my real age… can't the ministry as well? I really don't want this to get out… that I'm really twenty-six… bloody hell I still don't know what happened."

"I don't know of their procedures as far as under aged witches and wizards are concerned, Mr. Potter. I would guess, it's quite likely they will notice something when the detection charms dissolve from your residence."

"Great. I'd really hoped I would at least get the summer before certain people knew about it." He finished signing the papers, which at once folded themselves up and vanished. Harry already understood what had happened: the documents were now safely filed away appropriately with record-keeping.

"Your key will now work in your family vault, number seven oh two," Griphook explained, "If you wish, I can take you down."

"No, not today. I've got other things to take care of," said Harry.

"Very well, then, our business is done here."

"May your vaults overflow with Galleons," said Harry. Griphook was taken aback for a moment at the comment, but then nodded, giving a toothy grin. Yes, Harry Potter was definitely a strange wizard.

Harry's next stop was a shop that specialized in wizard travelling apparatus. The shop sold just about everything the travelling wizard or witch would need to keep the comforts of home when away from home. The first time around, he had managed to corner Mad-Eye Moody and ask him where he had procured his trunk. The shop owner had been more than cooperative, setting Harry up with a three-compartment trunk, whose third compartment was in fact a room. Of course, it hadn't stayed that way, once Harry and Hermione started in on it.

This time around would be no different, as he tracked down the shop proprietor, and explained what he needed.

"Yes, that's certainly a bit of an order, but nothing I can't handle," said the shop keeper, "If it's all right, we can take a floor model, and make the customizations. It should only take me a few hours. How about three o'clock this afternoon?"

"That would be great. The outside appearance isn't all that important, just as long as it works. In the meantime, I've got other things to take care of anyway, so I'll come back and settle at three, then." Harry nodded to the shop keeper, then stepped back out into the alley, this time taking the time to look around.

Indeed, the alley had a very different feel to it than it had the last time he had seen it. Here, people were still moving around freely, going out their business without a worry. All the shops were open, no glaring ministry posters—other than a few with pictures of his godfather on them—that too would change, he KNEW it.

After having a bite for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry then stopped at Magical Menagerie, where he picked up some owl treats for Hedwig. There was no sense in picking anything else up, although, as he thought… no, he DID need more parchment… and in fact, he needed a few sheets of oversized parchment for another little project. If he had his way, no one would get near the Dursleys without him knowing. A foe glass, and a sneakoscope would come in handy as well.

That got him thinking on several other issues. The Horcruxes. The thing was, did he dare touch any of them with Voldemort still without a body? Yet, if he could eliminate them all BEFORE he reclaimed a body, there would be no final confrontation whatsoever. With that decision firmly made, he once again popped away.

He landed in the shrieking shack, and gesturing with his hand, he disillusioned himself. It would not be a good idea for him to be seen in Hogsmeade the day after having left for London. He made his way quickly to Honeydukes, slipped into the cellar, and down the trap door into the tunnel which led to the secret entrance on the third floor at Hogwarts.

Once in the school, he was forced to hide in the shadows, as voices could be heard coming toward him. Luckily, he had been able to hide his magical signature—he felt the wards wash over him, probing his identity—so more than likely, they would be looking for an intruder. This was old hat to Harry, he had snuck into Hogwarts several times AFTER it fell under control of the Death Eaters. Snape had actually done well, protecting the students from the worst of the lot, but it was at most times most unpleasant to be a student at Hogwarts.

The voices were getting closer, and Harry could now make them out.

"…telling you, Albus, the brat is a powerful Occlumens. I could not budge an inch on his defences. He forced me to see only what he chose me to see." 'Of course,' Harry grinned, ducked away in the shadows, 'Snape,' he thought. No, it wouldn't take long for him to know the secret. Now if only Harry could get him to stop acting like a greasy git toward him.

"Indeed, Severus, I come to a similar conclusion. He is more talented than you give him credit for. I do have to wonder what Lily might say, if she were able to see how you treat her son?"

"Do not attempt such manipulations, headmaster," said Snape, coldly. Harry didn't have to see him to know he had his patented sneer firmly in place. There was a pause, and Snape continued, "I may have agreed to protect her son, but it does not mean I have to like him."

"Your animosity does neither of you any good. Must you continue to blame the son for the faults of the father?"

"Headmaster, you know as well as I do, should I go soft on Potter, word would take little time to reach the Dark Lord's followers, whether the Dark Lord is truly still alive or not. My use as a spy would be at an end." 'Of course, he speaks the truth,' Harry thought. Snape was absolutely crucial to the efforts of the light. 'I wonder if he could use some basilisk parts for potion ingredients…'

Once Dumbledore and Snape vanished around a corner, Harry stepped out from his hiding place. Sure, he was still disillusioned, but the two wizards were most certainly not ordinary. He let out a sigh, then made off for the seventh floor and his final destination: the Room of Requirement.

"I need the room of hidden things… I need the room of hidden things… I need the room of hidden things…" he spoke, pacing back and forth three times at the wall across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy: a rather amusing painting of a wizard attempting to teach some trolls to dance the ballet.

Wasting no time as soon as the door appeared, he was in the incredible room, which then resembled an indoor junk pile. If you could dream it, it was likely somewhere in that room. He made a bee line for a spot toward the back of the room, where there lay another object he wished to collect: the mate to the vanishing cabinet that lay in his pocket. No, Death Eaters would not be sneaking into the school THAT WAY this time around.

He then turned his attention to the second target of his visit: Rowena Revenclaw's Diadem, which rested on the bust of an unknown wizard. Picking up a cloth on a nearby table, he accidentally knocked a strange-looking gadget to the floor, which rolled around for a moment, clattering to a stop. Shrugging, he reached down to pick it up, and was given a shock—literally, as a yellow arc of magic jumped between Harry and the device, causing him to let out a yelp. "Merlin's balls!"

He took a deep breath, calming his rattled nerves, and once again picked up the cloth, this time a little more carefully, lest he knock over something ELSE that might bite. Perhaps next time, a mild shock would be the least of his worries. He draped the cloth over the diadem, then gingerly picked it up. His experience dealing with a cursed necklace in his sixth year the first time around had taught him well about dealing with cursed objects. This was one of the worst that could be created.

Harry worked quickly, wrapping the diadem in the cloth, then shrinking it down to fit in his pocket. His job finished, he made his way from the room, retraced his steps back to the third floor, and lastly, back through the passage to Honeydukes. Unseen by the boy-who-lived, the strange object he had encountered in the Room of Requirement glowed a light blue colour, and vanished.

It was just after three o'clock when Harry again visited the Wizarding travel store.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I'm just finishing up now," said the shop owner, indicating the large trunk which rested on the floor. The wood was a dark colour, with brass hardware on the corners. The latch and lock were also of brass.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Given the extra customizations, eight hundred galleons all totalled."

"Great." Harry fished into his sack of coins, and began counting out coins. True, it was an expensive purchase, but it would be worth it in the end. It took him several minutes to pull out the correct total, and even longer for the shop keeper to count it.

"very well then, allow me to explain its basic functions," said the shop keeper, gesturing to the now completed trunk. "Three compartments, as you requested. They are accessed depending on which latch you open." He gestured to the first latch. "This one, as well as the second, open to typical trunk compartments, both expanded substantially." He opened the first latch, allowing Harry to look inside.

"Great, excellent."

"The third one, as you requested, opens to reveal a ladder. I've given you an eight by fourteen room to furnish as you see fit." He closed the lid, then opened the third latch, allowing Harry to inspect it.

"I wasn't sure of the security charms you wanted on it, so there was nothing added." Harry only waved his hand at the comment, saying, "No worry, I have friends who can do that."

"Then we are settled. Thank you for your business, Mr. Potter." Harry inclined his head, picked up the trunk—which had been charmed to be feather light—and stepped out into the street. He ducked into an alcove, shrunk down the new trunk, and disapparated back to Little Whinging.

Stepping back into the house, he found a note tacked to the fridge. Petunia did in fact want a few things from the grocery store, and had left twenty pounds on the counter. He left them where they were, again disillusioned himself, and popped away. The grocery store wasn't that far away, but it was the novelty of it, after all. Not that he would ever get lazy, allowing magic to do everything for him. That was one of the things his relatives hated, and they did have a point.

The store, of course, was an absolute zoo. Everything else had gone so well, so there had to be a cock-up somewhere, right? He collected the items on the list as quickly as he could, then joined the lengthy queue at the cashier. He thought of the items in the basket, realizing Petunia wanted pancakes for breakfast. He had added some fresh strawberries and blueberries to the list, to add a little flavour. His mind then wandered back to the items now cluttering his pockets, and why he hadn't emptied them before going shopping. 'Bloody hell, what would the bobbies say if I were questioned?' The strange items that lay miniaturized in his pocket would most definitely result in some VERY uncomfortable questions.

More importantly, however, was the very dark object among them. One of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Even now, in its miniaturized state, he could hear it whispering to him in a language only he and one other understood: parseltongue, the language of snakes.

When he finally got back to the house, Petunia had returned, as had Dudley.

"I see you have still not—" but broke off, noticing the grocery bags Harry was carrying. "Did you not see the money left on the counter?"

"It's fine, I covered it," answered Harry, as he carried the groceries into the kitchen.

"Go, I'll put things away," said Petunia. Harry only nodded, then went to his room. There was stuff to unpack!

The trunk was first. Anything serious was to be done in the trunk. Just because the magic detectors would be vanishing soon didn't mean he could act recklessly. Even though Voldemort had not been able to return, he still wished not to draw the attention of the Ministry—although that would most likely happen anyway.

Next, came the other standard items he had purchased. Hedwig was resting on the window sill, watching her owner expectantly. Somehow she knew he had bought her more treats.

"Yes, Hedwig, I have more treats for you and your friends," Harry grinned, pulling out the package, and giving her one. "It was a good day today I think." He pulled out the cloth containing the Horcrux, and placed it in the second compartment of his new trunk. That would have to do for the time being, until he had better security.

Next thing on the list was the two vanishing cabinets, of which one was busted. It was the one thing he could never figure out; how Draco had managed to fix it. The brat had eventually came over to the light, perhaps a little too late to have any real effect. He had died trying to save Luna from Belletrix Lestrange, who had taken great offence her nephew had switched sides. Perhaps he could get to the prince of Slytherin sooner this time around.

For now, the two vanishing cabinets joined the Horcrux in the second compartment. He then finished emptying his pockets, and re-enlarged the parchment. That was his next project. Taking out a pencil, he started tracing a series of runes at the top. He also pulled out a scrap of parchment, as well as an Arithmancy text and an Ancient Runes text he had purchased at Florish & Blott's. They would help with the calculations.

When done, it would be a stark improvement on another piece of parchment he still had tucked away in his school trunk: the Marauder's map. This map he was creating would self-update wherever he might be.

He had spent an insane amount of time attempting to understand how the Marauder's map was created, and in fact it was only three years before his final confrontation with Voldemort he had finally cracked the secret. He had been able to do exactly what he was attempting at the moment, and it had worked famously. It was in fact key to his final victory.

Now, he continued scribbling out calculations, adding additional runes as they were calculated. It had taken him many hours to do it the first time, and this time would be no different. He finally went to bed as the clock red 2:00 am.

Just before 7 am, there was a knock at the door. "Harry, you wanted to make us breakfast, right?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dud," Harry answered, grinning, as the room came into fuzzy focus. Yes, things were definitely better this summer than they ever had been. Slipping his glasses onto his face, he sat up, and started. The strange object he had upset in the room of requirement the day before now sat in the middle of his bedroom.


	4. Flat Trunk?

_CAUTION: Possible spoilers for books 5, 6, and 7._

_SUMMARY: Harry questions the origin of the strange object that had appeared in his bedroom; Harry returns to Gringotts to visit the family vault and retrieve a few important things; another confrontation with the Dursleys gives another hint of Harry's strength as a wizard; a visit to No. 12 Grimmauld Place gains a new ally; and work continues on the flat inside Harry's trunk…_

_

* * *

  
_

**III:FLAT TRUNK?  
Or, is it a trunk flat?**

The device was about the size of a quaffle, and very much resembled one of the many small trinkets which seemed to adorn Dumbledore's office. The question was, how did it get here? For the time being, he used a dirty shirt and wrapped the item in it, then placed it in the second compartment of his new trunk. He had breakfast to make, after all.

As he worked at the stove, his thoughts were still stuck on the strange object now stored in his trunk. How had it managed to follow him? Could it be a danger? It certainly wasn't the last time he had dealt with bizarre objects, and he wasn't worried about what it might be. After all, there was something far more dangerous resting in the same compartment. Yet, there had to be a way to determine if it was at least safe to handle, right?

He was brought out of his thoughts, when Vernon stepped into the kitchen. Harry only nodded, and gestured to a cup of coffee already poured for him. He hurriedly filled four plates, then sat at the table.

"And do tell, boy, who invited you to sit with us?" questioned Vernon, with a glare.

"I did, when 'I' paid for the food you're eating this morning out of my own pocket," answered Harry, matter-of-factly. His uncle could not come up with a retort, and so the table fell to silence.

Once he finished, he stood. "I'll be out of the house most of the day again today. More wizard stuff."

"Is this to be the habit throughout the summer, boy?" questioned Vernon, gruffly.

"I dunno, maybe. Look, it's better I'm out of the house, rather than stuck here underfoot," Harry pointed out. Vernon conceded, then stood up himself. It was time for him to leave for work.

Once Petunia and Dudley were out of the kitchen, Harry cleaned up with a few gestures of his hands. The dishes floated themselves to the sink, washed and dried themselves, and put themselves away. He again smirked to himself, watching magic at work. It had been some time since he had actually felt good, felt alive. Just altering a single action, was already creating a butterfly effect. Sure, it was a dangerous game he was playing, but really, things couldn't end up much worse than they had ended up the first time, could they?

Like the day before, planned to spend most of the day in Diagon Alley, this time with his new trunk stowed in his pocket. It certainly made things much easier as far as purchases went, along with the other part of the mission that day. He had taken the time just before leaving, to apply an automatic resizing charm to it, so he wouldn't be having to cast magic each time he needed into it.

This time around, he cast a glamour on himself, so he wouldn't be seen. He had silently kicked himself the previous night, realizing how unwise it had been to be out in the alley without some kind of disguise.

The main objective on this second visit was to see his family vault at Gringotts. He had allowed the day for exactly that, as he knew there would be much to look at. So, just before 11 am, he was on his way down to the vault, courtesy of a bank cart.

Knowing it would be some time, he dismissed the goblin, allowing him to return to the surface. He then re-enlarged his new trunk, and began stuffing various items into the first compartment. He decided the second compartment would be reserved strictly for dark objects, items that were potentially dangerous. He then began collecting several books that had been indispensable the first time around; his mother had been a genius at charms, after all. In fact, there were several books that would be a great use when expanding the room in his trunk.

The first time around, he had created a large flat, with easily a dozen rooms. He had also managed to track down information on how to create a Room of Requirement. The thing was, would Dumbledore allow him to borrow the books this time? He mulled it over, as he tossed yet another advanced charms text into the pile growing in the first compartment. Of course, he reasoned, that particular text also contained some other very useful—albeit very advanced charms. Maybe a letter would be in order...

The most important thing collected was something truly special: a portrait of his parents. They had created it just after finishing school, so they had explained the first time around. It would be nice to at least be able to talk to them again—not that it was that long ago. Toward the end of the war, he had lived in his trunk most of the time, and the portrait had been hung above the fireplace.

Locating said portrait, he wasted no time in waking it. He grinned, as they woke and quickly oriented themselves. "Son?" said James.

"Hi dad," said Harry, still grinning. This was much different than the first time he had woken them. The first time, it was several hours before he could recompose himself enough to even speak to them.

"You've got your inheritance?" questioned Lily, seeming to appraise her son.

"Yeah, mum. There's stuff I have to tell you, though."

"You can't be seventeen yet," said James, "How did you fool the goblins?"

"I didn't, dad," answered Harry, "I'll explain everything properly in a bit... but the goblins let me know yesterday I had access to this vault, and I was a little surprised. So I came back today... there were a few other things I needed."

"So it seems," said Lily, glancing over at the open trunk. "A multi-compartment trunk I assume."

"Yeah, mum, it's got three compartments, one of them being a whole room. I plan to enlarge it significantly."

"How old are you, Harry?" questioned James.

"I turn fifteen at the end of July."

"Well done, a prank worthy of the Marauders, getting in here two years early."

"Dad. As I said, I have a few things to tell you later." Harry continued selecting numerous books from the shelves that lined one wall of the vault.

"You seem to know what you're looking for," Lily noticed, "As if you've done this before."

"Bingo!" said Harry, as he placed an armful of books into the trunk. He then took a breath, and began to explain the events of the original time line, or as he thought of it, 'the first time around'.

"So, you're still living with my sister," Lily assumed, when Harry finished.

"Yeah. Although this summer's shaping up to be quite different than last. It helps that I can do many things now without a wand. I wish I could've done that when I was younger. It would have saved a lot of grief."

"I think I will want a word with my sister," said Lily, icily, "She made terrible fun of Severus, you know."

"I know, Snape shared a pensieve memory or two of you guys. He loved you until he died."

"Really?"

"Honest, mum. Did you know, his Patronus is a doe, like yours?" Lily was surprised by the revelation. "It's true," Harry continued, "The bravest man I've ever met. That reminds me, I need to send him a letter, see if he might like to help me harvest a basilisk."

"A basilisk?!!" Lily was alarmed.

"Oh, it's already dead," said Harry, "I killed it at the end of my second year, saved my best friend's sister." Lily was still shocked at the idea.

"I'll have to tell you about my adventures at Hogwarts another time." He glanced at his watch. "It's time to get back to my aunt's house. I think for now I'll put your portrait in the room in the trunk. We can talk more after supper."

Arriving back at No. 4 Privet Drive, he found his aunt looking out of sorts.

"What's wrong?" questioned Harry, hand inching toward his wand.

"One of YOUR lot is in the back garden," she huffed. Harry glanced out through the solarium, and had to grin. Cedric was waiting for him.

"He won't bite, you know. Come let me introduce you... after all, you'll be seeing a lot of him this summer," Harry grinned.

"Now listen here, Harry... We will not be some..."

"What, I'm not allowed to have friends over? If I'm not allowed to have friends over, then neither is Dudley," Harry said in a low voice, "Trust me, I have ways of enforcing that." Petunia huffed and made a sour face at the threat, then stormed off into the basement. Harry shrugged, then stepped out into the back garden.

"Harry! Where've you been?"

"Gringotts," answered Harry, "C'mon, I have something to show you." He grabbed the older boy by the arm and all but dragged him through the house and up to his room.

Cedric looked around Harry's room, seeming to appraise the set up. "You've enlarged it."

"One of the first things I did when I got back. I mean, normally, this is the smallest bedroom in the house." Harry pulled the trunk out of his pocket, and re-enlarged it. He then opened the third latch. He pulled the lid open, revealing a ladder. He then made a gesture at the bedroom door—he wouldn't want his relatives intruding on them.

"Most impressive!" Cedric praised, as Harry began to climb down. He quickly followed.

"I'm planning to add to it, of course."

"You're not wasting any time, eh, Harry?"

"I can't. Voldemort may not have gotten his body back, but he's still a threat. He will try again, that's a fact. It's just when." A throat clearing behind them caused both boys to turn around.

"Who's this, Harry?" questioned Lily.

"Oh. Mum, dad, this is Cedric Diggory. Cedric, my parents, Lily and James."

"An honour to meet you," said Cedric, inclining his head, "I would shake hands, but that might be a bit difficult."

"Indeed it would!" said James, giving a light laugh, while Lily smiled. She said, "So, you must be the boy who's claimed our son's heart, then." Cedric felt his cheeks get rather warm at that comment. "Guilty as charged."

"It's actually good you're here, Ced," said Harry, "I'll need a bit of help setting up the wards on the trunk."

"You mean to say you don't know how to do it?" questioned James, "I would have thought--"

"Dad, it's not that I don't know how to do it. It's the complication of it, and an extra wand will be a great help. What I have in mind is this..."

By the time they were finished, the sun had long set, the room dimly lit by gas lamps.

"Harry, it's getting late..."

"Stay with me," said Harry, perhaps a little faster than he might have liked.

"Well..." Cedric thought about it, then grinned. "If I might borrow Hedwig, then."

"She won't mind in the least—wait," said Harry, as Cedric began to make for the ladder, "Try and disapparate out of the trunk, let's see if you can still do it now there are wards in place." Cedric nodded, twisted on the spot, and landed flat on his behind. Lily attempted to subdue a fit of giggles, while James failed miserably, earning glares from both boys.

"Right. You'll need to be added to the access list, then. Worked exactly as expected," Harry grinned.

"At least you didn't use blood wards."

"I debated the idea, and I may still in the future," was Harry's answer, as the two of them climbed the ladder back out into Harry's room.

"All right," said Harry, touching the lid with his wand, "Addendum, Cedric Diggory." The lid glowed green for a moment, then lay still. "Now you should be able to apparate in and out of it." Cedric nodded, then sat down at the small desk.

"Here... parchment and a pen—sorry, I don't tend to use quills and ink anymore."

"It still writes, that's what counts," answered Cedric, as he scribbled out a quick note. Hedwig had already hopped up onto the window sill in front of the desk, and stood there, ready to accept the piece of mail. "Take this to my mum or dad, whoever you find first," said Cedric, tying the letter to the owl's leg with a piece of string. She easily lifted off the sill, and soared into the night sky.

"Right smart bird you have there, Harry."

"My first birthday present, but I told you that before. Hagrid got her for me." Cedric nodded, but then glanced at the larger sheet of parchment that still lay open on the desk. "What's this?"

"An improved version of the Marauder's map. I've done it before, so it won't take long."

"Harry, I'm surprised you aren't half-spare. How is it you're keeping yourself together?"

"Simple," answered the younger boy, "I still have you... and Sirius... and Ron and Hermione... everyone I care about is still alive now. Sure, it still hurts in ways, but the fact everyone's still alive... that's what keeps me together."

"Harry... you won't be able to save everyone. Fate won't allow it."

"I guess I kind of know that... I mean, Hermione's gone on enough about altering time... oh bloody hell, she'll be the one to go spare when she finds out what's happened to me," said Harry. It was only half a concern, though, as he carried a goofy grin on his face. "I mean, it's not exactly as though I ASKED for this to happen, after all. But since I'm here, I'm taking full advantage." Cedric only grinned at Harry's goofy outburst, then wrapped the boy in a tight hug.

"Now. There's no way we'll be sleeping up here." He gestured with his hand at the bedroom door. "Repello Muggletum. Let's get back into the trunk. I have some plumbing to set up..."

It was the wee hours of the morning before both teens were in bed. The expansion charm took a little more time than expected, but the trunk now had a fully-functional bathroom. The two of them now lay in a simple double bed which rested against the far wall. Harry was spooned up against Cedric, the lights now dimmed to the point where one could just see enough to get around.

"So how long do you think you'll keep your secret from Dumbledore?"

"Dunno, hopefully for a while yet. I know he means well, but... he'll want to keep me protected and all that. I think I'm more than capable of looking after myself. But at the same time, I will need his help, right... just as much as I'll need Snape's."

"You trust him?"

"With my life," answered Harry, "We don't exactly get along, but I know why. I know that when it really counts, he'll be there every bit as much as Dumbledore."

"Doesn't excuse him from being a prat around you though."

"I don't know what the answer is on that. But again, I understand. If that's how it has to be, then so be it. Ced, I know who my allies are, who I can depend on. I've already made changes for the better, and I plan to make many more... if I do things right, Voldemort will NEVER come back."

When Harry next woke, the sun was streaming in through the false window—an ingenious charm that allowed natural light into the space. Cedric had separated from him, laying on his side, facing the opposite wall. Harry smirked, and rolled over so he was up against the other boy, then began placing soft kisses on his neck, working up to his chin, then to his face. His body might only be fifteen, but his mind was twenty-six, and he did know a thing or two about how to get the attention of his boyfriend—he'd had several later on, before finally finishing off Voldemort. Of course, it had always been a risk, as any love interest would very quickly become a target for Voldemort.

He smirked as Cedric finally began to stir, and opened his eyes.

"'Morning," Harry grinned.

"You do have a way of waking someone up."

"Thought you'd like it. You have anywhere you need to be today?"

"Other than here? Not really," answered Cedric.

"Great!" Harry flicked his index finger. "Tempus." '9:14 am' wafted from it. "Aunt Petunia's not going to be happy I didn't make breakfast this morning, but I'm not their bloody house elf."

"They made you cook for them?"

"Since I could reach the stove. I mean, not ALL the time, but a good part of it. Anyway… you can have the shower first. Not that I wouldn't mind joining you, but…"

"Harry, who's going to see us here? Not that I will ever take advantage of you," Cedric pointed out. Harry grinned, saying, "I like your way of thinking."

After a long, steamy shower, which involved perhaps a little more than getting clean, the two teens quickly got dressed, then apparated back out to Harry's room, where he removed the Muggle repelling charm on the door. They stepped into the hallway, and were almost knocked over by Dudley as he thumped down the stairs. "Watch where you're going, fr—"

"I would suggest you NOT finish that sentence, Dudley," said Harry, his voice low and cold. Dudley turned around to notice the other boy, and turned deathly white. "There are two of us here that know many ways of making things VERY unpleasant. I thought we had an understanding."

"S-s-s-sorry," Dudley stammered, then recovering, warned, "Be careful around mum, she's… she's put out that you didn't come down to make breakfast."

"Thanks for the warning," said Harry.

"Just… don't hurt her, okay?"

"Of course not. Look, like I said, I just want to be left alone." Dudley nodded, and continued down the stairs. Harry and Cedric followed him into the kitchen, where indeed, Petunia was cleaning up the remnants of breakfast, a lingering burnt smell in the air.

"You!" she hissed, "How… what did you do… you were supposed to make breakfast! And… and… what's HE still doing here?"

"He stayed the night, of course," answered Harry, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And does he not have his own bed to sleep in, rather than treating our home as a brothel?! Up there, doing your freakish things, I imagine…"

"Brothel? Good idea," Harry grinned, watching as his aunt turned deathly white, much like his cousin had only a few moments earlier.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Sure, why not? I mean, Fred and George could help out—you remember Fred and George don't you?" Dudley made a strangled sound and made a very quick exit.

"YOU WILL NOT BE…" Petunia began yelling, but Harry held up a hand, saying, "No, of COURSE we won't be doing something like that! However, no one here seems to be living up to their part of the deal. I'm not your house elf. I mean, I'm sure I could get Kreacher to come if that's what you want… but you won't like him, I GUARANTEE it. That reminds me… Ced, remind me to write a letter to Sirius later about him." Cedric only nodded, while Petunia still remained a very white shade. "Kreacher?"

"Oh yes, lovely personality. But he'd do exactly what I ask, begrudgingly nonetheless, but…"

"No, that's quite all right," Petunia sputtered, the implication being very clear. Of course, she knew what a house elf was, and no, most certainly did NOT want one in the household. Now, if Harry had his way, that was EXACTLY what was about to happen.

"Aunt Petunia, again, I make myself clear. Every time you or uncle Vernon or Dudley provoke me, you will see more 'freakish' things happen in your house. Is that what you want?"

"Harry, you can't—" Cedric began to protest, but Harry held up a hand. "The Ministry won't be able to do a thing in a few days, if what the goblins told me is true… the detection charms in the area will break down, and I'll be allowed to use my wand here. Oh, and in the event you're remotely THINKING of contacting Dumbledore or any other person about that… By my magic, I FORBID you, Petunia Dursley, from discussing any of what I have just disclosed, with ANYONE who does not already know." Harry smirked as a swirl of violet magic wafted from his chest, to settle around Petunia, then well inside her, much to her displeasure.

"Harry! That's dark magic!"

"Perhaps… but it prevents people from spreading my secrets. Now… aunt Petunia, I'll clean up the kitchen… we haven't had breakfast yet and it wouldn't be right for you to have to clean up after us as well." Petunia only glared at the two teens, then backed out of the kitchen, still looking very pale after this latest confrontation with her nephew.

Once they had eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, the teens returned to Harry's room. Harry sent off a quick note to Sirius, then they re-entered the trunk.

"'morning, Harry," Greeted Lily, from her portrait.

"'morning, mum," answered Harry, with a grin. It was nice having his parents' portrait this soon. They had been a tremendous help the previous evening with erecting the wards on the trunk.

"'morning, Mrs. Potter," said Cedric.

"So what's the plan today?" questioned James.

"Adding a couple of rooms to the trunk, probably making this room a bit bigger," said Harry, "I also have to install a fireplace… floo connection and so on—"

"Not inside a trunk, dear," said Lily, "The ministry would never allow it."

"Ah, but see, mum, 'I' know how to do it," Harry rebutted, with a smirk. That got a wicked grin from James, who spoke, "Just like a true Marauder, Prongs Jr."

"Prongs Jr. …right," said Cedric, as it dawned on him. Harry had told him about his father's Animagus form, and the influence it had on Harry's Patronus form. "Speaking of prank, you should've seen your son in action just now," said Cedric, with a smirk of his own.

Ten minutes later, James was laughing himself silly, while Lily, trying to maintain a modicum of firmness, was failing quite spectacularly. "Well," she finally managed, "Maybe my tart of a sister might finally get it… Merlin's pants, if the tables were reversed…"

"I know, mum, I know," said Harry.

An hour or so passed with playful banter back and forth, as the boys again began making changes to the trunk, which at that time mostly involved the enlargement of the original room, as it would become the common room. As it neared 11 am, Hedwig flew in through the opening in the corner where the ladder was, to light on the drawing table the teens had conjured the night before. An envelope was affixed to one of her legs. Harry quickly retrieved it. "I'll get you a treat later, okay?" The bird seemed to understand, and began preening herself. Harry quickly opened the letter. "It's from Sirius."

_Harry,_

_What do you want with Kreacher? You do know, he is not exactly 'personable', right? If it's truly important, perhaps we could make arrangements for you to come visit for an afternoon._

_Love,_

_Sirius_

"Okay, change of plans. We're going to Grimmauld Place," said Harry.

"Sirius' parents place," said James. Harry nodded, saying, "It's hidden by a Fidelius Charm. Dumbledore's the secret keeper, but I know the secret."

"Harry, I won't be able—" Cedric began.

"You can if you hold onto me while we cross the ward," answered Harry, "You trust me?"

"Of course."

"Let's go, then. Be back in a bit, guys," said Harry. He grabbed Cedric's hand, and they both disapparated.

They appeared with a light pop in the middle of a small square, a familiar plot for Harry, but foreign for Cedric. "I'll have to get Dumbledore to give you the secret, but come on." After a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, he grabbed the older boy's hand, and led him toward a block of houses on one side. Cedric immediately noticed there was no Number Twelve. 'Of course', he realized, it was probably there, just hidden.

Sure enough, Harry was going right for the boundary dividing eleven from thirteen, and, up a set of invisible stairs. Then, as soon as his feet made contact with what would have been the first step, the missing address popped into view. He had just circumvented the Fidelius charm on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

The house was darker inside than Harry had ever seen it. Perhaps Sirius was just starting to get things sorted. And of course, the Weasleys hadn't been invited over yet… summer holidays had just begun, after all.

"Shhhhh… there's a nasty portrait in the hallway that gets quite vulgar if disturbed," Harry whispered in warning. Cedric nodded, and they went into the sitting room. "Wait here, I'm gonna find Sirius." He'd barely gotten the words out when said godfather framed the doorway.

"Merlin, Harry, when I said we'd make arrangements for you to visit…"

"You know as well as I do, Dumbledore'd never allow it… at least not this early in the summer."

"And Cedric… how did you manage to get in here?"

"I led him in," answered Harry, "But I'll get Dumbledore to share the secret with him as soon as I can."

"Worthy of a Marauder," Sirius grinned, "Well, come into the kitchen. I daresay it's probably the only room in the house that's been cleaned in any decent form up to this point."

Once seated around the narrow table in the kitchen, Harry got down to business. "Sirius, I need to speak with Kreacher. He's got a locket that's very important."

"Ah, right, the Horcrux. Kreacher!" Sirius shouted. There was a loud CRACK, as the elf in question made an appearance. "Master call for Kreacher?"

"Indeed, I did," answered Sirius, "My godson has some questions for you. You will answer to him as you would answer me. Is that clear?"

"Yes, master," said Kreacher, then continuing in a low voice, "Master not fit, he isn't… oh what would mistress say?"

"Kreacher, please," said Harry, "I need a locket. It's very specific. A gold locket, with a serpentine 'S' on the front of it. Have you seen it? Answer truthfully, please." The elf shifted from foot to foot, then said, "Yes, Kreacher has seen it… Master Regulus brought it home—"

"From the lake in the cave," Harry finished, "Kreacher, I know what Regulus was trying to do. I'm going to finish it, and I know how. Could you fetch me the locket?"

"Can little master do it?" Kreacher asked, hopefully, "Kreacher tried… oh how he tried… but nothing Kreacher did ever left a mark on it."

"I promise you Kreacher, I can, and I WILL." The elf disappeared with a loud CRACK, only to reappear moments later, the locket in question in his hands. The elf looked like he was about to break down and cry.

"Kreacher, you've done very well. It is not your fault what happened to Regulus, you understand?" That's all it took. The elf fell to the floor, his wails and sobs filling the kitchen. This, of course, resulted in the inevitable. A piercing blood-curdling screech came from the hallway.

"_Filth! Vileness! Half-bloods! How dare you besmirch my house!"_ the screams continued.

"Just a second," said Harry, with a smirk, stepping into the hallway. Over the foul portrait's screams, he shouted, "SILENCIO!" The portrait fell silent, even though the woman's lips continued to move, her face contorted into a fit of rage.

"Well done, Harry," said Sirius, appraising his godson's work, "We've all tried that before."

"Well, annunciation is only part of a spell, is it not?"

"That it is."

"If I've done it right, she'll never be heard from again."

They found Kreacher in the kitchen some time later, appearing to be in much better spirits, preparing some tea.

"You've had a magic touch with him," noted Sirius, as they took seats at the table.

"If you want, I could take him back to my aunt's house."

"He did threaten his aunt with exactly that this morning," said Cedric.

"She went deathly white with the suggestion. Another wonderful memory to power my Patronus charm," Harry grinned, "And I could probably get Dobby and Winky to help here."

"If you don't mind… You know the Order of the Phoenix will begin meeting here soon."

"Yeah, within the next week, right?" Harry guessed.

"Having the Weasleys here, Remus, and so on… it'll be awkward for Kreacher."

"My trunk will need tending to and so on—I did tell you about my trunk in the future, right?" Sirius nodded. "I got it the day before yesterday. Cedric's helping me set things up, but, a house elf would be handy."

"Kreacher," said Sirius, "Would you like to help Harry with his, err, flat?"

"Kreacher would be pleased," the elf answered, with a low bow.

"Great, then it's settled," said Harry, "And I might have something for you in a couple of days." His mind was already racing, devising a plan for recovering the fake locket from the cave. In the meantime, he had two elves to summon…

it was actually mid-afternoon before Harry and Cedric returned to the trunk. They had raided the Black library of some useful materials. Kreacher went straight to work, putting said books away in one of several cases Harry had conjured.

"Mum, dad," said Harry, "This is Kreacher."

"We remember him, Harry," said Lily.

"Harry Potter's parents," Kreacher croaked, seeming to study the portrait.

"Now… I need to set out some rules. You're not to ever use the word 'mudblood' again. You cannot insult my parents or my friends. Basically treat them with the same respect you show me. Is that clear?" Kreacher nodded. "That kind of thing is just wrong, it's the kind of thing that's keeping Wizarding society in the dark ages."

"Kreacher understands."

"Great. Like I said, there's something I plan to give you once I have it, but it may take a few days. Now, in the mean time…"

By supper time, the flat now had a proper kitchen, as well as a decent sized dining room. Harry sent Kreacher out to get supplies for the pantry, and the boys set to work on adding a few bedrooms. In the future, there were fourteen rooms on three levels at the height of use, with nearly twenty people sharing the space.

Harry quickly realized Cedric was a more than adequate student in both charms and transfiguration, and that moved things along much quicker than had he been working alone. Both had teamed up to build a fireplace, with Harry actually teaching Cedric a thing or two about conjuration. Of course, Cedric was already learning that considering he had completed his sixth year. However, Harry knew MUCH more than that.

"I'm awed watching you work, Harry," Cedric praised, "It's just amazing how much you know."

"Well, eleven years kind of does that right? Like, did you know this?" said Harry, taking a seat in one of the couches in front of the fire, "In some instances, Muggles can learn magic?"

"Bullocks!" Cedric swore as he also took a seat, "Impossible!"

"Yes, in most cases, that's true. But, there are very rare cases. I actually personally witnessed an example… Merlin, it would have been six years ago… I won't name any names, but… one of the guys staying in the trunk, he saved a man's life by giving him blood… Muggle-born as I remember. A week later, well, he started having bouts of accidental magic."

"Well… it does sound plausible, dear," said Lily from her portrait.

"Voldemort found out, and… well, it was a painful few weeks for me. It was shortly after that ugly incident that I perfected my Occlumency."

"But surely, the ministry of magic would have more documentation on incidents like that."

"Ced, remember what kind of a government we're dealing with. That's the WORST kind of thing they'd want to keep records of. The pure-blood movement would go spare!"

"But… surely, just transferring some of your blood wouldn't—"

"Cedric, magic is all around us. It's in every living thing. We've been given a gift of a great well of it, a strong concentration of it."

"I see where you're going," Lily cut in, "A witch or wizard's blood carries some of the concentration."

"Exactly. That's what the group of us thought, too. I mean, the guy wasn't all that powerful, but he could cast a few simple charms. I'm sure if he'd survived, he probably would have become proficient enough."

"What happened?"

"What do you think?" questioned Harry, darkly. Cedric only nodded, realizing he had touched a sore spot. The debate was ended when Kreacher popped back in, bringing with him a load of groceries.

"Looks like he bought out the store," Harry laughed, happy for the distraction.

Once dinner was over and done with, Harry finally turned his attention to the dark objects that rested in the second compartment of the trunk. They were all brought into the flat, and placed on the drawing table in the common room.

"What are those?" Cedric gestured to the two cabinets.

"Vanishing cabinets," said Harry, "In my sixth year, Draco fixed this one…" he gestured to the broken one, "Which was hidden in the Room of Requirement. Death Eaters were able to get into the school from the other one, which was at Borgin & Burke's, in Knockturn Alley. I mean, they aren't dark objects in themselves, and might be bloody useful."

"Looks like this one's still damaged," said Cedric.

"Yeah. I'm not worried about those right now. These on the other hand…" Harry gestured to Ravenclaw's diadem and Slytherin's locket. "I'll need to visit the Chamber of Secrets with Snape in the near future. I need at least four fangs from the dead basilisk, but I'll probably collect more. Thing is, he's gonna want to know why…"

"And you'll likely have to explain everything in minute detail."

"Remember, Harry, Severus and I were very close friends," Lily reminded, "Perhaps you could invite him to speak with me, he might like that."

"Yeah, I'm sure he would. But mum, do you forgive him? For calling you… what he did?"

"Of course I do!"

"He'll definitely want to hear that," said Harry, "It was one thing that pained him the most. It's a bit late to be sending mail now, and Hedwig's likely gone hunting. First thing tomorrow, then. In the mean time…"

"What's that one?" Cedric pointed to the strange object that had somehow followed Harry home from the Room of Requirement.

"This one… I don't know what to make of it. When I was in the Room of Requirement, I knocked this over. When I went down to pick it up, the bloody thing gave me a shock. I didn't think nothing of it, but—"

"Sounds like it's imprinted itself on you," said James.

"That's why I've handled it so carefully now… I don't know if it's dangerous." Harry levitated the object with his hand. It somewhat resembled a model of the planet, with a set of rings going on two axis. Each ring had hundreds of runes inscribed on it. The sphere itself had numerous markings as well.

Then, Harry got an idea. Allowing the object to settle back on the table, he drew his wand, and tapped the object, saying, "Reveal your secrets." He was promptly thrown across the room by the resulting shock. "Err… maybe not," Harry ground out, rubbing the back of his head. His glasses had fell off his face, and now lay on his lap. His wand had gone flying, and clattered against the opposite wall.

"I'd put it back where you got it, Harry. Or turn it over to the Ministry. They'll be in a better position to make heads or tails of it," suggested Cedric.

"I'll put it back in the Room of Requirement when I visit the Chamber of Secrets."

With Cedric gone for the night, Harry slept fitfully. His dreams were again invaded, as he found himself back at the old house he had dreamt about the previous summer… or what was twelve years prior.

"Tell me again, Wormtail, how was it they managed to escape?" came the raspy voice that was Voldemort, still in his 'ugly baby' form.

"I do not know, Master, they… they disapparated… before I could cast the curse… forgive me…"

"Crucio."

Harry woke up to screams, and realized it was his own voice. Kreacher was already at his bedside, looking quite concerned.

"Is little master all right?"

"Just… fine, Kreacher," answered Harry, sitting up. 'Been a while since I've felt that one.' He rubbed his scar, which was still throbbing.

"Little master must lay down, Kreacher will be back with headache-potion," said Kreacher, and popped away.

He returned only seconds later, with two potions. "Kreacher brings a headache potion and dreamless sleep potion for master Harry."

"Thanks," said Harry, accepting the two potions. The elf gave a low bow, then left the room. Harry consumed both of the offered potions, and sleep quickly took him.


	5. The Taming of Severus Snape

_CHAPTER SUMMARY: Our favourite potions master gets a shocking eye opener in the affairs of the boy-who-lived; a floo connection is installed in the trunk; a brief discussion with Dumbledore ends up strangely…_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER IV- **

**THE TAMING OF SEVERUS SNAPE  
Or, when 'potter' became 'harry'**

* * *

On July 6, Harry was a ball of emotions. He had written Snape two days before, and had finally received a short reply, stating, "_11 am, at your relatives. Do not make me wait_."

Harry had been sure to warn his aunt he was expecting a teacher, and any rude behaviour would have consequences… he could not afford to have this potential 'olive branch' screw up in any way shape or form.

Fortunately, when 11 am rolled around, Harry was waiting on the front step, as Snape appeared from under an invisibility cloak.

"Professor," said Harry.

"Potter… what in blazes do you—"

"Sir… really, I have someone who wants to see you. And there's some things I need to say—"

"I don't have all day to listen to your whining about—"

"If you will just… do you want to speak to my mum or not?" Harry blurted. Snape froze. "What did you say?"

"I have… I have a portrait of her… just come on, I'll show you." Harry was perhaps a little too enthusiastic, and the snarky potions professor sneered at the behaviour, but nonetheless, he was curious.

"Lead on, Potter. This had better not be a waste of my time, I was in the middle of brewing."

Less than a minute later, teacher and student were in Harry's room. Snape arched an eyebrow at the room, recognizing at once it had been modified magically. His eyes then fell on the extra trunk resting against the wall, alongside his normal school trunk. Harry was already pointing his wand at said trunk. "Addendum, Severus Snape." Like before, the lid glowed a green shade for a moment. This once again had Snape baffled. What was the brat playing at?

"This way, sir," said Harry, and he climbed into the trunk.

"Where did you manage to procure such a trunk, Potter?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," said Harry, as he stepped off the ladder, "Now that you're keyed to the wards, you can apparate in and out. I think that says something, does it not?"

"Indeed, Harry." Severus wheeled to meet green eyes belonging to someone he thought he would never see again. A strangled gasp escaped from the professor's mouth, as he was struck dumb for a moment.

"How did you get… Merlin's balls!"

"Professor, I wasn't joking. Now, I know you two might have some catching up to do, so I'll be… well, working in another part of the flat, so… take all the time you need. Oh, and if you need anything, call on Kreacher, he's around somewhere." Snape was too bewildered to answer. He simply stood there, seemingly mesmerized by the portrait before him.

About a half hour later, Harry heard a soft POP from the common room. Voices, and a few moments later, Cedric appeared. "How'd he take it?"

"Froze. I think he was floored when he realized I wasn't making it up. They're still talking?"

"Yeah. I actually saw Snape laugh. D'you know how eerie that is?"

"Tell me about it," said Harry, "But… I think he's needed this. All the dragon shit he's had to put up with, he's more than earned it. If I can, I'm gonna get the portrait copied somehow, so Lily can visit him. Might make a nice Christmas gift, I think."

"Lunch is about ready, master Harry." Both teens turned to see Kreacher standing in the doorway. "Will master Snape be staying as well?"

"Ask him… he's welcome, of course," said Harry, "Although it won't surprise me if he declines… never stayed for meals at Grimmauld Place." Kreacher gave a light bow, then vanished with a gentle POP. His demeanour was changing rapidly, and Harry knew the environment had something to do with it, along with the kindness Harry showed him.

The flat was decorated in light woods, with thick carpet in the rooms. Large windows were charmed to reflect the outdoors as it would be at that time of the day, including the current weather. Most of the furniture was of dark woods, such as cherry or mahogany, with leather coverings. Harry had went all out the first time around, so there was no reason he couldn't do it again.

Entering the common room, they found Snape still speaking in soft tones with Lily. Harry cleared his throat, and the professor turned around. "We're having lunch, sir. You're welcome to join us. I can bring the portrait into the dining room." Snape only nodded, so Harry gestured with his hand, floating the portrait off the wall. Snape watched with rapt fascination, as it was guided into the dining room. "There. Now come have lunch with us… I know you're dying to know how I just did that, right?" he couldn't help but let a smirk come across his face.

"Indeed, Potter," said Snape. With that, the three of them stepped into the dining room, taking seats at the table. Kreacher appeared bringing a large tureen of chicken noodle soup, a platter of sandwiches, and crackers. A pitcher of pumpkin juice was already on the table. The three of them wasted no time accepting generous helpings of soup.

"Do tell," Snape finally began, "Where you have learned to cast wandlessly."

"I knew you'd want to know that one," Harry grinned, "But I have to start at the beginning. First off. I know we don't get along well, but sir, thanks. I know the vow you've taken with Dumbledore, and I mean it, I appreciate having you watch over me."

"How? How do you know about that?"

"Because of something which will happen about eleven years from now. Or did, because I lived through it. Professor, I came back. I don't know how, but… I wanted to end it and I stepped through the veil at the department of mysteries and I came back! Somehow I wasn't allowed to die!" Harry suddenly found himself overwhelmed, as memories crowded his mind. He took a deep breath, and pushed them back into their proper places.

All the while, he could feel the professor pushing with his own mind, so he looked up and locked eyes, giving Snape a nod. Snape arched an eyebrow, but pushed ahead with trepidation. Potter had just given him permission to peak into the boy's mind? How did the brat know? Occlumency was a rare art, after all. Yet, the memories he was seeing were organized. This was not the mind of a typical fourteen-going-on-fifteen-year-old student. This was the mind of a strong Occlumens.

The memories he was being shown floored him. Particularly the visions of him killing Dumbledore… that had felt like a bludger to the stomach. What would possess him to do something such as that? Sure, he had done some despicable things as a Death Eater, but he would never dream of committing an act that dark… would he?

Deciding he had seen enough, Snape pulled back out of Harry's mind. The boy was still looking up, unblinking, but had a gentle smile on his face.

"You defeated the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. What would have been, err, eleven days ago, where I came from. When it was all over, I just… didn't want to live anymore. Voldemort took everything that ever meant anything to me. The veil was my only way out, and… it might have been a coward's way, but I took it. Death looked pretty good after everything was said and done."

"You're gonna ask him a wizard's oath, right Harry?" questioned Cedric. Snape, however, was way ahead of him. He drew out his wand, and holding it in front of him, said, "I, Severus Tobias Snape, swear by my magic, to never reveal any of what has been shared here today." A golden thread of magic wafted to hover above Harry's head.

"So mote it be," said Harry, holding his wand in front of him. The thread vanished into him. "Sir, I trust you."

"You do understand, Potter—Harry, I am expected to uphold appearances at Hogwarts," said Snape. Harry nodded, "Yeah, I'm aware. Draco and his cronies… I know he's your godson and so on. But really… I think he needs to understand exactly what he's getting himself into. He was marked the summer before his sixth year."

"Yes, as Lucius is planning," said Snape.

"Couldn't you give him a dose of reality? Show him what it really means to follow Voldemort?"

"Do not use the Dark Lord's name, Harry," said Snape. Harry nodded, remembering the risks.

"Sorry, it's just out of habit… although I should know. In what would have been my seventh year, he put a taboo curse on it. A good number of the Order were caught because of it."

"Has there been any word as to what the Dark Lord is up to?" questioned Cedric. Snape only shook his head.

"I got a vision a couple of days ago. He was questioning Pettigrew about his failure in the grave yard. The rat got a does of the Cruciatus curse."

The conversation was interrupted, when Hedwig flew into the room, to land on the table in front of Harry. She had a letter, as well as a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry opened the letter first.

_Harry,_

_Dumbledore's trying to convince the government Voldemort still lives. I'm afraid it isn't going well. I remember what you told me about your 'first time around', and this may be an indication it may still proceed in that direction._

_On a happier note, I have received notification that I will face the Wizengamot on the charges filed fourteen years ago against me; they intend to use Veritaserum, so it's likely I should have my name cleared then._

_Be safe, Harry,_

_Sirius_

"Great," Harry snorted, "Why is it dragon shit somehow finds a way to repeat itself?" He opened up the paper:

_IS DUMBLEDORE STILL THE MAN FOR THE JOB?_

_Pundits say his time has come and gone_

_After recent comments made by the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot regarding the death of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named some fifteen years ago, his integrity is being called into question. The leader of the Wizengamot and headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, has gone on record, stating he believes the Dark Lord still exists, although still in shade form, and is attempting to regain his body._

_Such an attempt was made at the end of June during the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament at the school, so he says. Yet, with no collaborating testimony to confirm this unlikely story, this reporter has to also question the mental stability of the headmaster._

_The ministry of magic has not weighed in on the discussion officially, but unofficial word from sources close to the minister do indicate, 'steps are being taken'. Which does beg to question, is Albus Dumbledore's days as head of the Wizengamot numbered?_

_Your diligent reporter will certainly keep abreast of this story, for it will likely be a news-worthy item for some time._

_Rita Skeeter_

"Uhg, I'm gonna hex that vile woman into oblivion, I swear!" Harry vowed.

"I thought Hermione had her stuffed in a jar somewhere," noted Cedric.

"Yeah, me too. So that means Umbridge will be teaching at Hogwarts… again."

"We'll just have to drive her from the school, then," said Cedric, "You did have that defence club, right?"

"What sort of defence club?" inquired Snape.

"Well, it was essentially a replacement for Dark Arts Defence. That foul woman wouldn't teach us anything useful, so we resorted to teaching ourselves. Of course, since I was no longer a student and wasn't supposed to be there… I was there in disguise. Still, everyone knew who I was… particularly once I cast my Patronus charm. Professor, please help protect the school this year… that woman's a mean toad who takes sick pleasure out of torturing students."

"And why didn't anyone report such abuses to McGonagall?"

"She virtually RAN the school, professor. She would have sacked anyone who spoke out about it," Harry retorted.

"And the picture becomes a little clearer," Snape understood. His mind was already working in overdrive, thinking of ways to make life difficult for the new Dark Arts Defence professor, should Harry's prediction become true.

"Well, this makes things, a little more complicated," Harry let out a sigh, then brought things back on track. "Professor, there's another reason I asked you here today. It concerns a dead basilisk…"

"Pot—Harry… do you realize how valuable the ingredients from this are?" questioned Snape, fighting very hard to hold his indifferent mask on his face. Inside, he was astounded at the great beast that still lay half-submerged in a pool, deep within the Chamber of Secrets.

"I have somewhat of an idea, sir," answered Harry, "I figured… you'd know more about harvesting it and such. And sir, consider this a gift… I've got more than enough money."

"Indeed," said Snape, inclining his head. He reached into the pockets of his robes, and pulled out a miniaturized pair of dragon hide gloves, which he returned to normal size. He slid them on.

"In the meanwhile… I need some of its fangs. You saw the memory of the Horcruxes?"

"I did. Have you collected any of them?"

"Two, so far. I know where the rest of them are, it's just a matter of making time to collect them. I'll need basilisk venom to destroy them. That, or the sword of Gryffindor, and I strongly doubt professor Dumbledore would let me borrow it, at least not without an explanation."

"You really killed this, Harry?" questioned Cedric. Harry nodded, and gestured to the spot high atop the façade. "Right up there. It got me with a fang, though… without Fawkes, I would've died."

"Most unfortunate the eyes were destroyed," Snape mused, "They would have been worth a fortune by themselves."

By supper time, they had harvested most of the useful parts from the dead snake, and exited the chamber the back way, which led into the Dark Forest. Snape returned to his quarters back at the school, while Harry and Cedric returned to the trunk back at Privet Drive.

Most important, however, Harry had gained yet another ally, although it would not appear that way while he was actually at Hogwarts. Appearances were everything, after all. Still, Snape understood there was an open-door policy in the trunk, so he could visit with Lily any time he wanted to… "If you can put up with a cheeky brat that calls himself her son," he had drawled, tongue-in-cheek. That had gotten the corners of the professor's lips to twitch just a tad.

"Was that an attempt at sarcasm, Potter?"

"Perhaps," Harry smirked, "But I did learn from the best."

"Ah, but a hot-headed Gryffindor such as yourself won't quite understand the subtleties in the art of sarcasm, Potter." Again, the corners of the professor's mouth twitched, fighting the indifferent mask he had firmly in place.

Once supper was over with, Harry decided to tackle the floo connection. He'd asked Snape for permission to floo call his office as a test, which had been granted, although Snape was curious to know how Harry planned on hooking it up. The professor was in for a surprise. Cedric, of course, was hovering over the boy as he worked, watching with fascination, as he conducted the various charms and spells to connect a fireplace up to the floo network.

"Now, of course, I could have set things up for a private network, between just a few places… that sort of thing became common in my future. The main floo network was risky… loads of people were taken that way."

"Taken?"

"Captured."

"Right."

"For now, a regular connection will work, but likely in the future we'll have to change it… now… to connect the floo with the trunk wards… don't want Voldemort to be able to floo in here, right?"

"Err, no."

"Right, that will just about do it, then," said Harry. He'd already purchased a pot of floo powder, which now hung from a bracket at the side of the fireplace. He took a pinch of powder, tossed it into the fire, then called out, "Fire call Hogwarts, Severus Snape's office!" He stuck his head into the green flames, and quickly found himself looking out into the potions master's office.

"You surprise me yet again, Potter," said Snape.

"And you doubted me… oh, the shame of it!" Harry mock-wailed.

"All right, so it works. Be gone, so I can get back to my brewing."

"Good night, professor." Harry pulled his head back out of the flames, and they returned to their usual orange colour.

"Now the big test." Harry this time took a fist full of floo powder, and standing, tossed the powder into the fire, which again roared a brilliant green. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" he called out, then stepped into the green flames.

The trip was every bit as chaotic as the last time he had used the floo—he never did seem to master the subtle art of floo-travel. He was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor of the kitchen.

"Harry! Merlin, where did you from?" questioned Sirius.

"My trunk, of course!"

"You… you have a floo connection to your trunk." Harry nodded vigorously. "My, my, pup, you are wasting no time at all, now, are you?"

"Nope. I helped Snape harvest the basilisk today… I think it was Christmas come early for him—"

"You spent the day with Snevillus?!"

"Sirius, please. I need his help… and… he was pretty decent to me today. I need you guys to try and get along. Please, promise me you'll try." Sirius nodded, then said, "Okay, pup, I promise to do my best."

"It's all I can hope for, right?" Just then, the flames roared green again, and Cedric's face appeared in the flames. "Harry, I gotta go. Dad needs help with something."

"Okay. Good night, Ced."

"'night, Harry. See you in the morning." With that, his face vanished from the flames.

"He's good for you," said Sirius, as Harry pulled up a seat at the table.

"Yeah. The one thing I wished so long I could undo… and I did it. It's like… there was a temporal intervention or something. Either way… I hope we can get bonded someday."

"I'm sure you will. He's been to visit you practically every day now, hasn't he?" Harry nodded. "Just be careful. Don't let him—"

"Sirius. I know. I'm still twenty six in the head remember?"

"True." Both Harry and Sirius looked up, hearing the front door.

"Stay here." Sirius got up, but it was a wasted motion. Albus Dumbledore framed the door to the hallway.

"Harry… how is it you come to be here?" The headmaster looked to be a mixture of emotions, ranging from confusion to slight anger. Harry didn't miss a beat. "Visiting my godfather, of course. Good to see he's finally getting a trial."

"Harry, why are you away from your relatives? Surely you know it's not safe for you to be out and about on your own."

"Professor, if I'm not safe with Sirius, then who can I trust? Surely you can't expect me to sit in my room all summer?"

"Yet, I certainly don't like the idea of you travelling from Surrey to London on your own. Harry, there are those who will want to do you harm, not necessarily just those who side with Voldemort. You do understand that?"

"You mean like Rita Skeeter? I'll deal with her in my own way." He suddenly put a hand to his forehead, a strong feeling of vertigo welling up.

"Does Harry Potter want some tea?" Winky's question sounded like it came through a long hose.

"What?" Even his own voice sounded… weird.

"Harry, are you all right?"

"What's wrong?"

"HARRY?!" It was the last thing he truly comprehended, as everything seemed to warp before his eyes, as if he were apparating somewhere. Yet, he had not. His vision faded to complete blackness, while a tremendous roar filled his ears. Next thing he knew, he was slammed into a hard surface. His world once again faded to black.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTES**: So... here we are, at the split. Those of you who have read the original version of "Temporal Boundary Invasions" will remember most of this word-for-word, save for the prologue. Now, things change. And, unlike the original, even though Harry encounters a less-dangerous group of people (how dangerous can a Muggle heavy-metal band get, right?)... Voldemort on the other hand... (he makes an appearance in Chapter 6, btw :D )_


	6. A Party Crashed

_CAUTION: Coarse language._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER V-  
A PARTY CRASHED**

**Or, harry makes a few more friends**

**

* * *

**It had been both grueling and fantastic for the members of "Thrice Defied". They had just wrapped up the final stop in that year's "Warped Tour", which had involved over seventy acts, and dozens of stops across North America. Even though it was in fact the wee hours of the following morning, August 14, 2006, the four members of the group were still wide awake aboard their tour bus, along with two members of another band, partaking in something akin to a 'wrap party'. It was a chance to unwind, since there was no real rush to get away at this point, unlike the day before. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, and the number of empty beer bottles were an indicator of the state they now found themselves in.

One of their member was slightly distracted, however, not seeming to have as much enthusiasm as he normally did.

"Okay over there, Matt?" questioned Owen, one of his band mates. Matt, the front-man of the band only looked up quizzically, then returned to staring at his half-empty beer bottle.

"He's been a bit off since this morning," noted Patrick, who had been goofing around with a pair of drum sticks. "Not getting ill on us are 'ya?"

"No," answered Matt, curtly. He had tried many times during the day to explain what had happened that previous morning before sunrise, yet… it was as if he were compelled NOT to. His answers were stressed and short, and just perhaps that evening's performance hadn't been one of his best. He had been thrown off-balance for the entire day, and even now, the knowledge some strange event was about to happen kept him on edge.

Curiously, they had been having issues with their cell phones and other electronic devices since the morning—Owen's notebook kept crashing and at times wouldn't boot at all. The GPS unit attached to the windshield was scrambled, and had finally given up the ghost when they had tried it a few hours before. No less than five light bulbs had suddenly burnt out, including one they knew had been replaced only a week before.

"Ah piss on it, we're off guys," spoke Frank Cordell, one of the visiting band members, standing. The other, Chester White, also stood, planting a beer bottle amongst the numerous other empties that cluttered the small table.

"He's usually more fun than this," said Owen, gesturing a thumb toward Matt, "Don't know what's been eating him, but—" There suddenly came a whistling sound, getting louder by the second. With a loud CRACK, there was a soft but clearly audible THUMP as something impacted with the side of the bus. A split second later, there came a much louder crash, as something heavy also slammed into the side of the bus.

"What the fuck was that?" Owen was on his feet, as was Patrick. Chester and Frank looked at each other, unsure what to think. Matt, on the other hand, was already making for the door.

"You sure that's a—" Too late, he was already out the door. The others were forced to follow, not sure what kind of trouble they were about to find.

It was immediately apparent as to the cause of the crashes. A teen-aged boy lay crumpled on the ground beside the bus, unconscious. A large steamer trunk lay at a haphazard angle, against the back tires, a large dent marked where it had collided with the side of the bus.

"What the fuck?!" Owen blurted, confused.

"Shit, it's like he fell out of the sky or something," said Frank, kneeling down beside the teen. Matt joined him, and quickly checked for life signs. He was alive, that was good. What now? He reached for his cell phone to call for an ambulance. 'Shit, that won't work… fucking thing hasn't worked all day.'

"You gonna call for help, or should I?" questioned Chester.

"Your cell phone work? Mine's busted," answered Matt, looking up. "Justin… get a blanket from my bunk so we can cover him up for now." The fourth and final member of "Thrice Defied" nodded and stepped back inside the bus.

"Looks like a kid. How the fuck did he get here though?" questioned Chester, pulling out his cell phone. He opened it up. "Okay, that's weird. It had a full charge a while ago."

"Damned if I know," answered Matt, shaking his head. Of course, he actually DID know what had happened. The boy was here for whatever that guy had buried the previous morning.

"Look at this," said Patrick, pointing at something on the ground nearby. It looked like a stick. He reached down to pick it up—and was promptly blown off his feet by an invisible charge of energy.(1) "MOTHERFUCKER!"

"What happened to you?" questioned Justin, reappearing from the bus with the comforter off Matt's bunk. Patrick was sitting on his behind, looking quite rattled.

"There's a stick over there that's got some sort of booby trap on it. Holy SHIT that hurt!" His head felt like it was full of cobwebs—perhaps the dozen or so beers he had consumed might have something to do with it also, but, that's neither here nor there. As it was, Patrick was feeling much worse for wear at this point. He attempted to stand as Justin dropped the comforter over the boy, but found it almost overwhelming, as he was nailed with a powerful bout of vertigo.

"You're wasted, man," said Justin.

"And you're not? YOU try touching that stick or whatever!"

"Guys," said Matt, "Not helping here."

It was at that moment the boy started to come to, and blinked to reveal the most startling pair of green eyes Matt had ever saw. He blinked again several times, as though trying to focus on his surroundings. "S-s-s-snape?" he mumbled, as they made eye contact.

"You hurt anywhere?" questioned Matt.

"Why… who… all over…" the boy mumbled, "S-s-sirius… where's Sirius? P'fessor… where's…" he blinked again, then lifted his head to get a better look at his surroundings. "Shit."

"He needs a hospital," said Frank, "He's—"

"No… no hospital… potion… got healing potion…" the boy mumbled, again trying to focus on the faces looking down on him. The one with black hair was not Snape. Even without his glasses, he was able to make that distinction at this point. What had happened? He was obviously no longer at Grimmauld Place. He was at last rid of the cobwebs in his head, and made to sit up.

"NO! Don't move, man… you could be badly hurt," said the black-haired man. Harry could pick up the concern in his voice, and a light peek into his mind said exactly that. "No, I'm fine," he answered, "Just knocked a little silly. My… my glasses. Any of you seen them?" He sighed as those gathered around him shook their heads. He would have to modify their memories later anyway. He thrust out a hand. "Accio glasses!" Said missing glasses snapped into his hand, and he slid them on at once. "Bloody liability," he mumbled, and sat up.

"I did NOT just see that," said Justin.

"No, you did," answered Owen, "Unless we're all hallucinating. It was like—"

"Magic?" spoke the boy.

"Yeah, exactly like magic," said Matt.

"You shouldn't have seen that, but… no matter. Where am I?"

"Montreal," said Frank. "How did you get here?"

"Fucked if I know," answered the boy, "I didn't do this on purpose… bloody hell. Accio WAND!" he commanded, hand again outstretched. The same stick Patrick attempted to pick up only a minute earlier snapped into the boy's hand.

"What… what are you?" Matt demanded, although he was perhaps slightly nervous. Was it a question he truly wanted answers to?

"I'm a wizard… and you're all Muggles—non-magical people. I'm breaking at least two laws practicing magic in front of you. My name's Harry."

"I'm Matt… this is Frank, Chester, Owen, Justin, and Patrick."

"Err… nice to meet you."

"You sure you're all right?" questioned Matt. Harry only nodded, and at that, Matt helped the boy to his feet. "So… there's like, a bunch of wizards… not just slight-of-hand bullshit."

"Yeah, absolutely," answered Harry, appraising his surroundings. He still felt a little light-headed, but that too was rapidly disappearing. He stowed his wand in the waistband of his oversized pants, and gestured at the nasty dent in the side of the bus where his trunk had slammed into it. "Reparo." The metal seemed to unbend itself, the dent vanishing in a fraction of a second.

"Um, thanks."

"I caused it… only fair," said Harry, with a shrug. He again took a peek at Matt's mind. 'Muggle rock band, interesting,' he thought, as he began to pull back. These guys would be safe, then. Hold on… "Matt… has there been a wizard here before… like recently?"

"N—yes! There was, yesterday morning," he answered, looking… almost relieved. What had the guy saw? "Do you trust me?" questioned Harry.

"I just met you."

"I… I need to speak to you alone. I'll give you a wizard's oath you won't be harmed."

"A wizard's oath?" questioned Frank.

"It's a powerful invocation that if violated, will cost the witch or wizard who cast it their magic. I have no intention of losing my magic just now."

"Matt… no, it's not cool," said Patrick. Two others were shaking their heads too, but Matt only nodded. Harry drew his wand again, and holding it in front of him. "What's your full name?"

"Matthew Tyson."

"Great. I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that I shall not harm Matthew Tyson in any way shape or form, so mote it be." A purple wisp of energy wafted from the tip of Harry's wand, which much resembled a trail of smoke. It settled above Matt's head.

"What—what's that?"

"Say, so mote it be."

"So mote it be," Parroted Matt, and the energy dropped into him. He felt nothing.

"And I promise all of you for that matter, I won't hurt any of you."

Matt only nodded at this. It looked pretty sound to him, after all. As much as his friends and band mates were still unsure of things, clearly this was the person meant to pick up whatever was buried the previous morning. He HAD to trust him, then. "Where to?"

"I'll show you," said Harry, kneeling down and setting his trunk level again. He unlatched the third lock, and wrenched the lid open. "Follow me."

"What?" Matt looked doubtful, as he watched Harry climb into the trunk, and disappear. A look inside absolutely floored him. There was a LADDER leading into a room that couldn't POSSIBLY fit in there!

"Come on!" Harry called, beckoning for him to follow. A look back at his friends, and he cautiously followed, although a little unstable considering he was rather intoxicated. He missed the second rung down, and slipped, landing at the foot of the ladder in a heap.

"Shit," said Harry, shaking his head, and held out a hand, helping his new friend to his feet.

"Thanks."

"Come have a seat. Kreacher? You around?" With a sudden POP, the elf appeared in front of Harry, while Matt only stared.

"What—what is that?"

"He's a house elf. He helps keep the place clean, and does the cooking," answered Harry.

"What can Kreacher get master Harry?"

"An anti-intoxication potion, if you please." Harry gestured to Matt. "I think I might need a headache-relieving potion as well."

"Right away, master Harry." The elf popped away, while Harry gestured to one of the couches that sat at an angle to the fireplace. Harry took the other.

"This is all magic?"

"Everything in here, pretty much," answered Harry. Just then, Kreacher reappeared bringing the required potions. "Thank you."

"Is master Harry and his guest requiring tea and snacks perhaps?"

"Coffee if you have it," said Matt.

"I could use a cup of tea, then."

"Kreacher is bringing both then." The elf popped away. Harry uncorked the vial of anti-intoxication potion, and passed it over, saying, "Sorry about the taste, but it'll help you clear your mind."

Harry was right. To Matt, it tasted like burnt socks. For a brief moment, he thought he would not be able to keep it down. Yet, at the same time, his mind was rapidly clearing. Other than exhaustion, he actually felt sober. The look of surprise was not lost on Harry.

"You didn't think it would work."

"No, not really."

"Harry? What happened?" Both heads swivelled around to the source of the voice. "You did floo to Grimmauld Place did you not?"

"I still don't know what happened, mum," answered Harry. he looked over at Matt, who was doing a very good imitation of a goldfish. "All I know, is I'm on the other side of the pond. Canada, for Merlin's sake! It felt like a port key, but worse. I was talking to Sirius… Dumbledore barged in… and the next thing I know… I woke up with a bunch of guys—" he gestured at Matt— "hovering over me. I swear fate has it in for me."

"And who are you, young man?" inquired Lily.

"Fucking hell… I think I need another one of those potions," Matt declared.

"No, you're fine," Harry grinned, "My parents' portrait. They had it painted before they were… well, I don't want to discuss that… but they're always with me now."

"Is that normal?"

"Very much so, Mr…"

"Oh. Matt. Matt Tyson."

"My parents, James and Lily."

"Never thought I'd ever see a talking portrait. So… your 'alive'?"

"In a limited existence, but yes," answered Lily, "Not everyone has it done, but sometimes a witch or wizard will wish to leave their essence, their personality behind to help others after they're gone. In our case, we knew our son would want our assistance and guidance even should we pass on unexpectedly."

"I actually just got them a few days ago, along with the trunk here."

"But… how is this possible. Holy fuck this is making my head spin," Matt declared.

"Pretty typical reaction for non-magical folk. I was in a right state for a while when I found out magic was real, too."

There were so many questions racing around Matt's head at this point. Yet, he was truly fighting to stay awake, as there was unfinished business. "I guess you wanted to know about yesterday morning." Just then, Kreacher popped in, bringing a platter containing two cups of steaming liquid, sugar, and cream. "Thank you, Kreacher." The elf bowed, and popped away. The two of them fell silent as Matt added a bit of cream to his coffee. Harry sat back, taking a sip of his tea. When it looked like he was ready, Harry continued, "It's easier if I can just have a look. I can look into your mind, see your memories. It's much quicker that way."

"You can do that?"

"With your permission."

"Does it hurt?"

"With me doing it, no." Matt hesitated, but at last said, "Okay."

"Just focus on what happened yesterday morning. Tell me when you're ready, and keep your eyes on mine.

"Ready." Harry only nodded, and as their eyes again met, Harry gently probed into Matt's mind. He was easily as skilled as Snape was, but approached with the finesse of Dumbledore.

The memory was relatively short, showing a tall man crouched low in a patch of grass that divided up the parking lot. Clearly, he was covering something. Next came Matt's interrogation of the individual, and the most curious reply. He withdrew.

"he left something for me."

"He said something like that… I couldn't tell anyone else about it."

"And you wouldn't. He was a wizard, a powerful one at that. He put a memory charm on you that not even I could break."

"Memory charm?"

"I can make you forget things, or remember only parts of it. I can make you believe something happened when it really didn't. But I promise you I won't." Harry mentally kicked himself as he realized what he had just said. So much for obliviating the guy.

"But why?"

"You shouldn't know about the Wizarding world, Mr. Tyson," supplied Lily, "Muggles cannot know of our world unless there are special circumstances."

"Like what?"

"Well," answered Harry, "One of my best friend is a Muggle-born. Both her parents are Muggles, non-magical people. So of course they would have to know about magic, right?"

"Oh. Right."

"There's a few other circumstance, but normally it's not done." Just then, a voice called down from the lid, "Matt?" A pause, and some unintelligible cursing.

"We're down here," answered Matt, then to Harry, "Can they come down?"

"Not right yet," answered Harry. he still wasn't sure how he would deal with the group. Better not to expose them too much to the wizard world. It was a good thing he hadn't actually used his wand up to this point—he wasn't sure about the magic detectors in the area. Sure, Gringotts recognized him as an adult, but by no means did that carry over to the ministry, at least not yet. Being caught casting magic under age was bad enough… doing it on foreign soil was another matter altogether!

"I'll be back up shortly," Matt called out.

"I'm gonna go retrieve the package left for me," Harry decided, standing, "Make yourself comfortable."

Climbing back out of the trunk, he found the other members of the band gathered close by, all of them looking rather annoyed.

"We have to go get some sleep," said Chester, "And likely these guys do too."

"Right." Harry looked up at the sky, which was already rapidly brightening, heralding the advancing dawn. Harry had promised Matt he wouldn't harm HIM specifically with mind magics… but not these two. "Nice to meet you both."

"Your magic tricks… pretty cool," said Frank. Harry arched an eyebrow. They still thought it was a trick? All the better, then. Of course, a small memory modification was still in order, just in case. But obliviation was clearly not required.

As to what to do with the others… that was still a problem. They were Matt's friends and band-mates—he wouldn't take kindly to any sort of offence toward them, no matter HOW well intentioned it might be.

Still very much aware the group was watching, Harry made for the small grass island that separated the parking lots. Something was producing a powerful magical energy field… almost intoxicating. It somewhat reminded him of Hogwarts. In fact, the entire area was super-charged with magical energy. Yet, it was at its strongest in one particular spot. Harry reached down, feeling along the ground, and banished a chunk of soil at one spot.

The object was cylindrical, about two feet long, and eight inches diameter, throwing off waves of magical energy that made him stagger for a moment. A damping field might be a thought, perhaps… done. It was then levitated out of the hole. He knew better than to actually touch it, considering the power radiating from it, and so a twig was transfigured into a rough box. The object was lowered into it, the box sealed, and miniaturized. Once securely in his pocket, Harry walked back over to the trunk.

"That was awesome, man," said Justin.

"Yeah, what he said," added Patrick. Harry only nodded, saying, "Magic's a lot of fun, true enough."

"How much longer you guys gonna be?" questioned Owen, still looking uncomfortable with the whole affair.

"I don't know. Trust me, your friend will be fine. I'll send him up when we're done." Harry didn't wait for a reply, but once again descended the ladder into the trunk.

In the time Harry had been gone outside, Matt had fallen asleep. This definitely put Harry into a quandary. He actually looked peaceful. Yet, he was certainly a stranger, and trust did travel both ways. Was it safe to leave him? Worse off, his friends outside were about ready to storm into the trunk. He made a decision.

"So are you finished now? Fuck, we need to get to sleep," Owen complained.

"I need to ask a favour," said Harry, "Is it possible to put my trunk on your bus? Matt has decided to make himself comfortable on my couch."

"What?"

"If you put my trunk on the bus, I'll leave the lid open and you guys can come in as you wish, although I know you need some sleep as much as I do."

"Right. Fine, bring it," said Owen, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

"I really won't hurt any of you."

Once the trunk was placed on the bus in a way Harry could get into it, he did just that. Owen was quick to follow, wanting to be sure Matt was okay.

"Shit… this is fucking wild," he commented, seeing the inside of the trunk for the first time.

"Shhhh…" Harry gestured to Matt's sleeping form on the couch. "Trust me, he'll be fine there. Glad you guys look after each other," Harry whispered, "I've got friends where I come from that would do the same thing."

"We've all known each other for over eight years," said Owen.

"That's something to treasure," said Harry, walking softly over to the couches, where his tea was resting on the coffee table. Steam was still rising from it, courtesy of a warming charm. He quickly consumed what remained of it.

"I guess… as long as he's okay there. Jesus fuck I need some sleep."

"Go. I need sleep too."

Once Owen had left the trunk, Harry gestured at Matt with a hand, and levitated him into the extra room beside his own. The couches in the common room were comfortable, but definitely not a place to sleep. He stepped back to the door, and finally got a good look at the sleeping form. The guy WAS good looking, after all. Harry guessed he was in his mid-twenties. Long, black, straight hair, a lean, trim body, most definitely a fine catch for anyone. His left upper arm had a rather intricate tattoo on it, and he wore a simple beaded chain around his neck. Very yummy indeed. Speaking of yummy…

Seconds later, Harry was kneeling in front of the fireplace. Cedric would be very worried about him. How long had it been since he had disappeared from Grimmauld Place? No doubt Sirius had let him know right away. His boyfriend was going to be in a right state! He tossed a pinch of floo powder into the grate, causing the flames to roar green. "Fire-call Diggory residence!"

Nothing happened. The fire popped and fizzled, returning to its normal orange colour.

"WHAT?!" He tried again, and got the exact same result. "What the FUCK is going on?!" He tossed in another pinch of floo powder. "Fire-call Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!" Same result. "Fire-call Hogwarts, Professor Snape's Office!" Once again, the floo refused the connection.

"Mum… why won't the floo work?"

"I don't know, Harry. You did configure it correctly?"

"You saw me use it to visit Sirius. It can't have broke."

"Um…" Harry turned around to see Matt standing at the archway separating the bedrooms from the common room.

"Shit. Sorry. Just having a small problem," said Harry. He instantly felt bad for waking his guest up. "Get some rest, your friends know where you're at."

"Thanks. A good bed is nice for a change." Harry grinned at the implication, and the dark-haired man disappeared back down the corridor. Of course, Harry realized, being a member of a musical act did tend to leave out some creature comforts now and then. He knew all about the lack of creature comforts… at least until he had obtained a magical trunk the first time around. The tent Hermione had obtained in the fall of '97 left a few things to be desired, after all.

Harry blew out a breath, realizing that at this point there was nothing more he could do. He felt exhausted, both physically and mentally. The thing he needed now, was sleep. He retreated to his bedroom, pulled the miniaturized box containing the recovered object out of his pocket. For the time being, he re-enlarged the box and placed it beside the dresser. He would have a closer look at the object after he had gotten some rest—things such as that were better done with a clear head, after all.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTES**__: I know there will be questions as to why Harry would be so trusting. Remember, he is a powerful legilimens, and can most certainly determine whether someone's a threat or not. The members of "__Thrice Defied__" are definitely not a threat to him. Now, of course, he has put himself into a bit of a pickle as for exactly how he's going to make them forget about him and magic, right?_

_Cookies to whoever can guess the REAL band "Thrice Defied" is based on.:D_

_(1) As JKR has explained, it is most unsafe for a Muggle to handle a wizard's wand. The results may be… unpredictable._


	7. Taboo

_WARNING: Coarse language, graphic violence__(!)._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER VI-  
TABOO**

**or, truck stops and death eaters do not mix**

**

* * *

**The next time Harry woke, the light was streaming through the window into his room through the fake window—his room was a western exposure, and magic ensured it would always align that way, no matter HOW the trunk was oriented. He slowly sat up, and stuck out an index finger. "Tempus." '1:30 p' appeared in faint text just above it. 'At least I didn't sleep the whole day,' he thought. He stood up, gesturing at himself, and became instantly dressed. Dudley's cast-offs… they really HAD to go.

Stepping into the corridor, he stopped at the guest room and looked in. Matt was still asleep. 'Not surprised there,' he thought, they had all been up almost twenty-four hours, from what he could gather from Matt's memory. Harry left the guy for now. There were bigger fish to fry, after all.

Stepping into the common room, he could hear voices wafting down through the trunk hatch. The other members of the band were obviously awake.

"Did you sleep well, dear?" questioned Lily, from her portrait.

"Yeah, fine, mum."

"You should look at the map."

"Why?" questioned Harry, stepping up to the drawing table. Of course, Harry had managed to complete the map, wanting to be able to keep an eye on not just his relatives' place, but the neighbourhood in general.

The map was still active… and moving? He tapped the map once to zoom it out to its maximum distance, which could show a twenty-five mile area. He touched the map with an index finger, and commanded, "velocitatem!"(1) He'd never expected to need a speed reading from the map, but nonetheless, the indicator charm had been built into it. '70 mph' appeared at the top of it. 'Right, of course… bus… mobile,' Harry realized. The band was probably expected somewhere, and the bus was one of the ways of getting there. Harry climbed the ladder and stuck his head out.

Sure enough, the scenery was flying by the windows. The rest of the band were seated around the small table, but fell silent seeing Harry appear half-way out of the trunk.

"We didn't know where you were going or whatever," said Owen, "But we needed to get going. We have to be in Toronto tonight to give an interview at MuchMusic."

"Doesn't bother me," answered Harry, "You guys had anything for lunch yet?" Blank stares gave him the answer he needed. He took a look up front, and gestured with his hand. "Confundo." He turned back to the group. "Come into the trunk and join me for lunch." He climbed back down, disappearing into the trunk. Owen only shrugged, and made to follow.

Stepping back into the trunk, Harry found Matt standing in the archway to the corridor again. "I just asked the rest of your friends to come down and have lunch."

"About to ask what time it was."

"About 1:30. By the smell, Kreacher's already got something ready for us. Right smart elf he is." The others had by this point made their way down the ladder one at a time and now stood in the common room, staring wide-eyed at their surroundings. Owen, of course, had already saw it, and was excluded from said reaction.

"This way guys," said Harry, gesturing toward the dining room.

"But… how is this possible?" questioned Justin, "You've got a whole flat down here by the looks of it."

"That's exactly it," answered Harry, "Some pretty advanced charms involved, I can tell you that. Stuff none of you should actually be seeing, but it's a bit late now. If the ministry ever found out… it would be a one-way-ticket to Azkaban… wouldn't even bother with a trial this time."

"Ministry?" questioned Matt, as he took a seat at the table.

"What's Azkaban?" questioned Owen.

"We have our own government, and our own prison," answered Harry, "Just as corrupt as a Muggle government, if not worse."

"But… what's wrong with telling us about… well… all this?" Matt gestured to the room.

"Magical people are actually quite rare. You outnumber us about a hundred to one. If a Muggle government ever decided we were a threat…"

"Right, gotcha," Matt understood. Just then, a large platter appeared at the centre of the table with a light POP. It contained a tureen of tomato soup, crackers, and a plate of sandwiches. A pitcher of pumpkin juice and a pitcher of apple juice also appeared.

"What did you to Adam, by the way?" questioned Owen, as he took a serving of soup and a sandwich from the platter.

"Confundus charm," answered Harry, "It doesn't hurt… it just prevents me from answering some uncomfortable questions."

"A little late," said Justin, "We sort of already showed him."

"Shit."

"Sorry, but—"

"No, it's okay. Guess I should have expected that in a way. But I guess now's as good a time as any. I have to cast memory charms on all of you so you can't violate the statute of secrecy… such as you did with your driver," said Harry.

"You promised—" Matt began, but Harry held up a hand. "I promised not to hurt you… but I also have to follow the law. I'll place a secrecy charm on you guys. So if someone doesn't know about my world, you can't tell them about it. Does that make sense?"

"So… like, that's what would happen to your friend's parents?" Matt guessed, as he too served himself from the platter in front of him.

"Yeah, exactly. I'm not breaking my promise to you guys. But at the same time, I have to respect the law too."

"Guess that makes sense," said Owen, "It's just… this stuff is… MAN… holy fuck, there's a whole world we didn't know of!" Harry grinned at that. "Exactly how I felt when I was eleven years old."

"Why then?"

"That's when a magical child gets their letter inviting them to a magic school. Of course, my useless aunt and uncle tried to keep that from me. They didn't have a clue, and still don't, I think."

"So you go to a school that teaches magic? Sounds awesome," said Matt.

"I thought so too. Until I found out the Wizarding world is as twisted and fucked as the Muggle world, if not more so. I've got a few really good friends, and loads of enemies because of who I am. Being a wizard isn't as great as you guys may think." He thought for a moment. "Once we get to Toronto, I won't stick around. Trust me, you guys don't want to be involved with me or the shit that's going on in my world. Better if you just forget you ever met me."

The remainder of the meal passed in silence, as each fell into their own thoughts. Harry could see each of them were captivated by the environment, but equally torn. Question was, would they honour his request?

The biggest question, was how to get home. His floo obviously didn't work. Using an international floo was out of the question, and creating an international port key was dicey at best. Last time he tried that, he'd ended up nearly a hundred miles off the mark, landing rather painfully in a tree. Most likely, he would have to apparate a bunch of times to get back to Little Whinging.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as the dishes all suddenly vanished.

"Harry… we're going back out—um, back up to the bus. Come if you like," said Matt. Harry only nodded, and followed the group. Climbing out of the trunk, he took the offered seat across from the table. From there, he was finally able to get a good look at their mobile home. It was well equipped, to say the least. Of course, from the glimpse into Matt's mind, these guys were doing quite well for themselves at this point, and could no doubt afford it.

Toward the back, he could see a couple of bunk beds built into the wall of the vehicle. No doubt there were a pair mirrored on the opposite side. The area they sat in currently looked like it was set up as a sort of office, while further up front, where the trunk rested, was more of a lounge area. Harry smirked to himself, thinking what he would do with a bus like this. After all, the ministry DID have those cars that were bigger inside than out, right?

Owen had at this point retrieved an acoustic guitar from one of the storage closets, and returned to his seat. "You play anything?" he questioned, as he began to pluck out a soft melody on the instrument.

"No. never had the chance," answered Harry, "Between my WONDERFUL relatives, and the dragon shit I've had to deal with in the magical world… no time for hobbies."

"That sucks."

"You have no idea."

"So what do you do, just study magic?"

"I have to. It's either that… or well… I'm not gonna get into my life, I'm sure the last thing you all need to hear is my 'woe is me' tale." He watched as Owen continued to strum his guitar, the music filling the bus. "So what sort of music do you guys play anyway?"

"Metalcore, the best description," answered Matt, "You heard Metallica before?"

"Okay," Harry nodded. "My cousin sometimes listens to their stuff."

"We opened for them a while back," said Owen. The bus was leaving the highway. "Need to refuel," came the driver's voice—Adam, as Harry remembered. Sure enough, they were pulling into a massive truck stop, as dozens of rigs were parked, their owners likely inside getting refreshments themselves. His travelling abroad for several years gave him some insight into Muggle methods of travel, after all. It also meant Harry would have to be extra careful casting magic. The petrol fumes could be ignited by a simple spark—he'd witnessed such an incident.

"Good chance to get out and stretch our legs anyway," said Patrick, while Owen was already setting the guitar aside.

"I'll be right back. Good chance to get a few things Kreacher didn't get when he went shopping for me." Harry had noticed the place had a fairly large convenience store. "You guys have any money on you?"

"What—"

"I just need to see it for a minute."

"Oh." Matt pulled out his wallet, and lay a twenty dollar bill on the table. Harry picked it up and looked at it—after all, it had been a while since he had dealt with Canadian currency. "Thanks." He passed the note back, then waved an index finger in a series of motions at the table. Instantly, a stack of identical notes appeared.

"Damn."

"Untraceable?"

"As far as I know. I mean, I could have done it quick and dirty, just use a stack of paper with a Confundus charm on it… but this is more professional. Take a few if you want, I can make more."

"Thanks!"

Less than a minute later, Harry was filling a hand basket with a number of items, mostly things which were rather difficult to get back in England. That also included a number of snacks—cookies, crisps (or potato chips, as North Americans called them), and a case of soft-drinks. If he was going to be entertaining, might as well act the part, after all. He quickly paid for his purchases, and once he was sure no one was watching, he miniaturized everything.

Climbing back aboard the bus, he then apparated into the trunk. He placed the items on the table in the dining room and restored them to their original sizes. "Kreacher?"

"Yes master Harry?"

"Could you put this stuff away for me?"

"Right away, master Harry," said the elf, giving a low bow.

"Great. Thanks." He popped back out of the trunk.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" Matt shouted, a bag full of chips going flying as he leapt back, very much startled by Harry's sudden appearance. He looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"Err… sorry, forgot about that."

"How… how the fuck did you do that?"

"It's called apparating. I can… well… pop from place to place," Harry explained, gesturing with a hand, cleaning up the mess he'd just caused. "I owe you a bag of crisps. Give me a moment." He popped away, only to return seconds later with a replacement. "Here."

"What's wrong?!" Owen exclaimed, storming onto the bus.

"It's cool… Harry just scared the shit out of me, is all," Matt responded. His heart was still pounding, and he had no doubt in his mind his life had just been shortened by a couple of years. "Harry… show Owen what you just did."

"Err… right." Harry vanished to stand behind him.

"Damn!" Owen looked impressed. Then he smirked and said, "Just don't scare Matt when he's sleeping."

"Why not?" Questioned Harry. Matt simply stepped around the boy, went to his bunk, and dug into a side compartment, pulling out a gun. "Just in case," he said.

"Hm. Good against Muggles. Voldemort… not so much so."

"Who's Voldemort?" questioned Matt, but Harry had no chance to answer, as a series of loud POPs were heard outside. Dark cloaked, hooded figures had appeared outside, and were making a bee line toward the bus.

"Both of you stay here… if anything happens get in the trunk and close the lid, understand?" No answer. "Answer me!" Matt scowled, but nodded, while Owen only muttered something unintelligible.

"I mean it, STAY here." With that, Harry stepped outside to face the threat. Death Eaters, five of them.

"Well well," one of them sneered, apprising the boy, "You look familiar."

"No, it can't be. The Dark Lord dispatched him twelve years ago," spoke a second. He had a wheezy voice, somewhat reminding Harry of Amycus Carrow.

"Harry? You know these people?" Justin had stepped out of the store, carrying a bag of groceries.

"See?! I told you! It's Potter!" spoke the first Death Eater, while another levelled his wand at Justin. Harry had no choice, thrusting his wand at the first speaker, who was lifting his sleeve, most likely to call for backup. "REDUCTO!"

The dark wizard was blasted nearly fifty feet backwards into the side of a parked tractor trailer, and landed in a heap. He did not get up.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" screamed the wheezy-voiced wizard, and Harry was forced to duck a green bolt of magic that slammed into a nearby car, causing it to explode in a fiery blast. Harry slashed with his wand at the wizard's upper torso, shouting, "SECTUMSEMPRA!" The wizard's head seemed to roll about, before sliding off the stump, and falling to the ground with a sickening 'plop'. The headless body followed, as if in slow-motion. The third wizard sent a bolt of purple magic at Justin, who had the sense to duck to the side. The curse sailed through the door of the store to impact with a shelf inside, scattering merchandise in all directions.

"Owen… get in the trunk," Matt snapped, cocking the hammer on the gun still trembling in his hand. Whatever these people were, they were not only attacking Harry, but one of his band mates. That was personal. Owen huffed, but did as Matt asked, climbing into the trunk, closing the lid. Matt, meanwhile, crouched beside the door, taking careful aim at the head of one of the dark wizards who continued casting dangerous magic. Several cars were completely destroyed at this point, and most people had scattered to the wind, understanding the danger. He pulled the trigger.

BANG! The dark wizard faltered in the middle of casting another curse, and clutched his chest. He stumbled forward for a few steps, then collapsed to the ground, knowing something had pierced his chest, and most likely it was fatal. With the strength draining from him, he made one last move before expiring, pressing his wand to the dark mark tattooed on his arm. The Dark Lord must know of this!

The two remaining wizards had saw the muzzle fire from the bus, and while one occupied Harry, the other seized the opportunity. Matt was nailed with a strong stunning curse, and dragged magically from the bus.

"Well, well. Potter's made some friends!" the Death Eater sneered, his voice low and bullfrog-like. Harry wheeled around and sent the attacking wizard flying against the side of the bus. He too, did not get up. 'Why didn't he just do as he was told?!' Harry fumed in his head, as he was once again forced to duck a bolt of red magic that instead slammed into one of the gas pumps. It had to happen eventually.

BOOOOOM! A geyser of fire erupted from the destroyed pump, casting a blinding light over the area.

"ACCIO MATT!!" Harry shouted, hand outstretched, breaking into a dead run. The entire place would go up in a fiery explosion, he was working with borrowed time. More flashes of red and green magic whizzed overhead and around him. Another loud explosion rang out, threatening to throw the boy to the ground, but he held on. And, as the stunned body of his new friend bumped into his hand, he disapparated.

They reappeared on the opposite side of the busy freeway. Harry thrust a hand at Matt, snarling, "Rennervate!" He opened his eyes at once, and found himself looking into green eyes that burned like fire.

"Bloody hell why didn't you do as you were told!?" Harry hissed, casting a silent healing spell at a nasty gash on his forearm.

"HEY! MY FRIENDS WERE IN FUCKING DANGER, TOO, ASSHOLE!" Matt roared back, "Or do you not care?"

"Of course I do! I had it well in hand, thank you—"

BOOOOM! A tremendous blast shook the ground, and the sky seemed to light up brighter than the afternoon sun. Being a major truck stop, the place held large tanks of petroleum products on site. It was followed by several more smaller explosions, while flames roared hundreds of feet in the air. Both of them could feel the heat from the inferno even though they were easily five hundred feet away.

"You've killed them. My friends. You've killed my friends," said Matt. He looked destroyed, simple as that. Of course, Harry knew he would feel the same way, were the tables reversed.

"AAAAAAAH!" Harry cried out, as his scar seemed to explode in pain. If things were bad, they were about to get a LOT worse. But… THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE! Harry shouted in his head, still wincing from the white-hot pain radiating from his cursed scar. It was confirmed, as a high, cold, voice said, "Hello, Harry."

Matt looked up at the new speaker, and knew at once he was looking into the face of pure evil. The figure had pale, grey skin, where in some places, thin blue veins passed. His finger nails better resembled claws, and the face… it better resembled a snake, with a nose that were better called slits, and red, reptilian eyes.

"What… who… who are you?" questioned Matt, trying to be brave. That was met with icy cold laughter. "The Muggle demands to know my name? You are not fit to know my name. But Harry knows how I am, don't you?" Matt suddenly felt like his head was about to explode, as a torrent of memories suddenly flashed before his eyes. It was like what Harry had done, but it HURT! The wizard here was by no means subtle, charging through his thoughts and memories like a bull in a china shop. It suddenly stopped… Harry was speaking.

"What do you want, Tom?" Even though Harry was completely in the dark about what was going on at the moment, he would not show fear. He had defeated the bastard once already.

"You dare call me that foul name?!"

"Yes, I dare. It's what you were called, was it not? Tom Marvolo Riddle?" questioned Harry. Voldemort hissed at the use of his real name, the wand twitching in his hand—wait. How did he get the Elder Wand?

"How is it you've come to be here, Harry?"

"I don't know, but I've gone to hell." He felt the Dark Lord press against his defences, and so he obliged, sharing a quick memory of his 'arrival'.

"Ah. A parallel universe? I see it, the confusion is there in your eyes. Perhaps then I shall help my counterpart, no?"

"Parallel universe?" Matt parroted. But Voldemort was already thrusting his wand at Harry. "Good bye, Harry."

This would be an ugly duel, no doubt. Harry thrust his hand at Matt, shoving him out of the way, and sprang to his feet as a blast of green magic barely missed. He answered with a bolt of purple magic, which Voldemort only brushed off as if batting away a mosquito. He answered with a jet of black energy. Harry side-stepped it, and was lucky he had, as it nailed a clump of reeds, causing them to crumble into dust. He felt the Dark Lord again attempting to break into his mind, but pushed him out, while sending a bolt of red magic at him. Again he only swatted it away as though it were a minor nuisance.

"Come on, Harry, you can do better than that," said Voldemort, with a cold laugh, once again unleashing a killing curse. It smashed into the ground where Harry had been a fraction of a second earlier. 'Where the hell are the Aurors?' he shouted in his head, unleashing another blast of purple magic.

Matt looked on while they duelled. It was incredible, and terrifying, all at the same time. The truck stop was a smoking ruin at this point, and it had taken less than five minutes. Five minutes had turned Matt Tyson's world upside down. More colourful blasts of magic erupted between the two wizards—obviously very powerful wizards, no mistaking it. By the sounds of it, the two of them had a history.

The dark wizard had his back to Matt at this point, and he did not waste the opportunity, fishing into the pocket of his shorts, and pulling out a five-inch jackknife. It might buy Harry some time in this clearly even match. He opened it up, and let fly.

Harry was too busy protecting himself in this life-or-death duel to notice what Matt was doing, but if he had, he would have put a stop to it. Suddenly, Voldemort let out an angry hiss, jarring slightly as though something had hit him in the side. Harry knew at once what had happened, and the result would not be pretty. A Muggle did NOT attack the most feared Dark wizard in history without repercussions. It all happened in slow-motion, the bolt of angry red magic crossing the distance between the Dark Lord and Harry's new friend, slamming into his chest.

A fiery rage erupted from deep inside.

"CRUCIO!" Harry hissed, causing his wand to actually vibrate with the power being forced through it. It had been a while since he had cast an unforgivable, but he was certainly capable of it. Of course, Voldemort only side-stepped the curse, and a smile formed on his lips. "Well, well. The golden boy DOES know how to cast unforgivables. This is a surprise, I must say." Harry only glared at the Dark Lord, casting a glance over at Matt, who lay in a pool of his own blood, trying to breathe through his shattered lungs. He would be lucky if he lived.

"Oh, Harry, you can do much better than that," Voldemort mocked, "Stooping to the level of Muggles?"

A bolt of purple magic came out of nowhere, followed not a second later by several loud bangs, sounding exactly like Matt's gun.

"Pick on someone your own size, snake-face!" came a taunting voice. The Dark Lord spun and trained his wand on the new speaker. The guy was short, five foot four if he pushed it, brandishing a short wand. His black hair stuck up in numerous places, not unlike Harry's, and his face had a hint of Asian ancestry. Chocolate brown eyes held a fire of hatred, as he let fly another curse that bordered on unforgivable.

"More friends of yours, Harry?" Voldemort laughed, as he flicked the dangerous curse aside. Several more bangs, of which he also dodged. "Resulting to Muggle tactics against me? Rather low for a wizard, is it not?" Another had joined the fray, brandishing a large revolver. He was much taller than the first newcomer, with sandy brown hair, and a face full of piercings. Harry took the opportunity while Voldemort was distracted, thrusting his wand at Matt, "Petrificus Totalus!"

More gunshots rang out, and Harry was confused as to how the gun could keep firing. It looked like a revolver, and it only had room for so many bullets, right? He sent another bolt of red magic toward the Dark Lord, his mind focusing back on the issue at hand. The others had now joined Harry. "Dude… let's get your friend, we can apparate." As good a plan as any, Harry had to agree, as they backed up slowly, keeping spell fire and gunfire trained on the dark wizard.

It would require split-second timing. He had to grab Matt somehow, while the others grabbed onto him. Another twenty feet… "Sectumsempra…" Fifteen feet… "Reducto!!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort again sent an angry green blast of magic toward the combatants, causing them all to duck, almost stumbling backward. No good to lose their footing at this point… it would be game over. Harry hissed out a spell, sending off a bolt of black magic identical to one Voldemort had used only a minute earlier. It stopped Voldemort for a second, as he realized what had happened.

"You are truly my equal, Harry," said the Dark Lord, "If only you would see truly how powerful we could be." That caused both newcomers to pause. After all, there had only been one 'Harry' to go toe to toe with the Dark Lord. But he was dead! How was this possible?!

"I will join you when hell freezes over," answered Harry, his voice cold and even. Five feet. Four. Three. Two. "NOW!" Harry dropped to the ground, grabbing Matt by the pant-leg, while the newcomers grabbed onto Harry's shirt. They vanished with a loud CRACK.

Harry was relieved as they landed in a heap in the middle of the common room. Owen was on top of Matt in an instant, terrified at the state of his friend. "What… where are the Patrick and Justin?!"

"Idonnknow, dead, injuried, I don't know," Harry breathed, trying to steady his nerves.

"You're really Harry Potter?" questioned the black-haired newcomer.

"Yes."

"But, how? It was all over the National Wizards' Standard twelve years ago, he killed you!"

"I don't know! I just… bloody hell what the fuck was that?!" Harry shouted, exasperated. He crawled over to where Matt lay. "Let me see him."

"Is he gonna die?" questioned Owen.

"No. Not if I can help it. Kreacher?" The elf in question popped into the room. "I need a few calming draughts, please."

"Right away, master Harry!" The elf popped away, only to return a moment later with five vials.

"Great, thank you." He accepted them, and slid one into a pocket, while passing three to his new guests. He consumed one himself.

"Dude… he's gonna need a blood transfusion," said the dark-haired wizard. "I'm Jiro, by the way, and this is Zachariah, or Zack for short."

"Wish we were meeting on better terms," said Harry, "You guys have any skill healing?"

"No."

"Not me… I'm just a Muggle," said Zachariah. Harry only nodded.

"Just a Muggle?" Jiro snorted, "We've had that discussion before!"

"But how did this all happen?" Owen demanded, still gravely concerned for his friend, "Harry said something about Vol—"

"NO! DON'T say his name!" Jiro hissed, "So THAT'S what happened. Harry, don't you know?"

It clicked. Of COURSE he knew about the Taboo curse Voldemort had placed on his own name, after he took control of the ministry in 1997. But this was Canada! What was Voldemort doing over here? Unless… "Is… is you-know-who in control here? In Canada?"

"Yeah, pretty much," answered Jiro, "He stormed the ministry on New Years' Eve 1999."

"It's true, then. I'm in a parallel universe. V-you-know-who said something like that a minute ago. But I should have figured it out sooner… it was getting dark were I came from," said Harry, as he began casting healing charms at Matt's chest. There was a lot of blood, but the boy ignored it. "Bloody hell I can't believe he did that."

"Matt's always been a little adventurous," said Owen.

"No, he was bloody stupid!" Harry hissed, "Lucky the Dark Lord didn't just outright kill him."

"What did he do?" questioned Zack.

"I think he threw a knife at him."

"Brave AND stupid," Jiro agreed.

"Nothing we can do at this point, the damage has already been done," said Harry, continuing to cast healing charms. "He won't be doing a whole lot for the next little while. I'm not too bad at healing—had to learn fast."

"Thanks," said Owen.

"For?"

"For saving his life."

"It's the right thing to do. And we're not in the clear yet." Harry looked to Kreacher, who stood off to the side. "A pain-numbing potion, please." The elf bowed, and popped away to return seconds later with the required potion.

"Thanks."

"Don't wake him yet… he needs blood," Jiro pointed out. Harry agreed, seeing how pale Matt looked. He had indeed lost a lot of blood. The 'Reducto' curse was truly destructive, after all.

"Do you know how to do it?"

"Yeah, I've seen it done. Owen… hold his hand out for me, palm up." Owen nodded, and picked up Matt's right hand, holding it palm up. "Now…" Harry drew his wand across the palm, speaking, "Diffindo." The palm seemed to split, a line of blood squirting from it. Harry did the same to his own hand, and mashed them together, causing blood to ooze out through the gaps. He spoke, while weaving his wand in an intricate pattern around the clasped hands, "My blood, freely given, so that you may live." A red swirl of magic enveloped the joined hands, and Harry could feel his own magic at work, pushing his blood through the cut into Matt's body.

"_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_  
"_Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…"_  
"_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"_  
"_This is my last warning—"_  
"_Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry Please—I'll do anything—"_  
"_Stand aside—stand aside, girl—"(2)_

_A brilliant green flash filled the scene, accompanied by a piercing scream._

Matt's eyes snapped open, but he quickly realized that was the ONLY thing he could move. It was as if he were a statue. 'Was that a dream? Am I still dreaming now?' He could feel a warm substance on his hand, and a glance confirmed it was blood. Harry had his hand clasped in his own, a trickle of blood was flowing down both their forearms. Harry was gazing down on him and their eyes locked. "My blood, freely given, so you will live." He paused, as fiery rage burned behind his eyes. "Merlin's pants what were you thinking?! You could have been killed, I could have been killed!" His body was trembling, Matt could feel it through their clasped hands. 'I was just trying to help, asshole!' he wanted to shout, but he could form no words. His chest still burned as if it were on fire. Harry at last released his hand, and Matt felt a moment of white-hot pain drag across his palm.

"I had to give you blood or you would have died," said Harry, "Now I'm gonna let you out of the petrifying charm, and I need you to take a potion. It'll numb the pain…" Harry again pointed his wand at Matt's chest, whispering, "Finite."

Harry was right. He needed that pain relieving potion like yesterday! Harry could see the shock of pain on Matt's face and immediately passed him the potion, which he gulped down hurriedly. It had an immediate effect, and the raging pain in his chest dulled to a throbbing pain, which he could better deal with.

"Where is Justin and Patrick?" Matt demanded, realizing he could move and speak again.

Harry had completely forgot about them. He was immediately in front of the map. He forced it to zoom close. "What are their full names?"

"Justin Bowen, and Patrick Reese," Matt supplied.

"Locatus, Justin Bowen," Harry commanded, tapping the map. It zoomed in at once, to a spot not far from the truck stop. Luckily, Patrick was close to him.

"That's one hell of a map, Harry," said Jiro, coming to stand beside him.

"Yeah, right useful. And we still have a problem." He pointed to the label 'Tom M. Riddle', with a miniature dark mark beside it, circling around a large 'X' on the map. "The 'X' marks where we are. He's likely found our hiding spot." He had no sooner gotten the words out, when there was a loud BANG, and the trunk shook.

"Where are we anyway?"

"This is my trunk," said Harry, "It's been strongly warded, but… it's Riddle. He'll break through eventually." He thought for a moment. "Kreacher, could you please move Matt into his room?"

"Right away, master Harry," said Kreacher. He gestured with his skinny fingers, levitating Matt off the floor, and guided him into the corridor, while Harry summoned his invisibility cloak.

"You're going back out there," Owen guessed.

"Have to, or we're dead." He draped the cloak around him, his body instantly disappearing, leaving only his head visible.

"Holy shit!" Owen was shocked.

"Don't touch anything. I'll be back shortly." He pulled the hood over him, completely vanishing, and there was a soft POP.

He appeared just outside the trunk. Voldemort was still circling it, contemplating what to do next. It was a most curious artefact, considering it was the only thing unscathed in the swath of destruction. He could detect the powerful magical enchantments placed on it. Yet, what was it doing here? Something of Potter's, perhaps?

Harry observed Voldemort for a few moments. Should he risk launching an attack against him? No. His head already felt like it would split in two from the pain blazing from his cursed scar. He simply swooped in, and popped away with the trunk, having already guestimated the location of Matt's friends. He was in luck for a change, as the two of them were huddled close together near a clump of bushes. Harry dropped the hood. "Justin? Patrick?"

"Harry! Jesus Christ we're glad you're all right," said Justin. He opened his mouth to ask, then closed it, seeing the trunk at Harry's feet, which Harry was already opening the lid to. "Come on."

Owen looked beyond relieved as his two friends stepped off the ladder and joined him in the common room. Harry was only a moment behind.

"Jiro. Do you know how to make a port key?"

"Of course. Where to?"

"Where do you live?" Harry questioned, wondering just how far his fame might get him here.

"In Toronto. Got something I can use?"

"Here." Harry tossed the guy a cushion off one of the couches. Jiro shrugged, then tapped it with his wand. "Portus."

"Okay. Owen, Justin, and Patrick, stay here. You'll be safe in the trunk."

"You're taking us with you, right?" questioned Justin.

"Of course I am! Just stay put."

"We'll come out as well," said Jiro, "My house and all."

"Yeah, of course. Grab onto me, then." Jiro and Zachariah grabbed hold of his shirt, and the three of them popped away.

"How long before it activates?" questioned Harry, as he shrunk the trunk down and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Get a finger on it, quickly," Jiro warned. Harry and Zachariah did so, and less than five seconds later, he felt the familiar hook about the naval, as the world spun away.

Harry touched down, and found himself in the back yard of a neatly-kept house. The garden was filled with vivid plants and vegetables—he spotted several magical varieties as well. He let out a snort.

"What?" questioned Jiro.

"Just seeing a few… err… not-so-Muggle plants growing in your garden. My aunt would be in a right state if I were to do something like that."

"That 'Loving' family of yours? A few interesting things came out about your relatives once you 'died'," said Jiro, "It was all over the papers, both here and in Britain."

"They didn't treat me well, but—"

"HARRY! How can you defend them? They beat you to within an inch of your life once!"

"Huh? No, never—err… wait. I keep forgetting, alternate universe."

"So… where you come from, they treat you at least half-decent, then?" questioned Zachariah. Harry nodded. "Somewhat. I mean, they don't exactly like me, but… they never actually beat me. I mean, getting a swat across the head a few times when I was younger, but… never like what you're suggesting. I'm not THAT daft, and besides, Dumbledore would never allow it."

"Oh, don't get me STARTED on that man!" Jiro hissed, "He let us down… he let ALL of us down, YOU the most when it TRULY counted!"

"Look, mate… in my world, he's a bit manipulative, but… he still cares… I count him as an ally, someone I'm gonna need support from if I'm to deal with… you-know-who."

"All right, I guess… holy fuck this is confusing," said Jiro, shaking his head. "C'mon inside."

The house itself was a one-and-a-half-storey design, with bedrooms upstairs, Harry guessed, as they stepped through the patio door. The bottom floor was completely open, with only a half-wall and an island counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the place. There was a half-bathroom that made up the back part of the stairs.

The house was VERY Muggle, and he only had to look at Zachariah to know why. It didn't take much to figure out these two were in love with each other. Yet, as he looked around, he spotted a few things that indicated a wizard lived there. Namely, a number of text books in the bookshelf. "Advanced Potion-making, Grade 6"… "Most Potente Potions"… Harry arched an eyebrow. "Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them"… Oh yes, a wizard most DEFINITELY lived here.

"You can put your trunk here," said Jiro, pointing to a spot beside the book case. "I'd offer you a bedroom, but…"

"I already have a bed in the trunk," Harry finished, as he pulled the miniaturized trunk out of his pocket, and returned it to its proper size. He looked over at the twin desks sitting against the opposite wall. Computers. He'd seen models like those not long before he came back… of course, he WAS twelve years into the future, and a very dark one for that matter. Did he want to know what was going on? "Let's get back into the trunk, I need to check on Matt."

"They look familiar," said Zachariah.

"They're some Muggle rock band—never heard of them, though. 'Thrice Defied', something like that."

"Damn. I know who they are, just couldn't place them. Thought they looked familiar… just all this other shit went down," said Zachariah.

"Thanks, by the way," said Harry, "I mean, I've faced him enough, but… he totally caught me off guard… where I come from, he's still just a spirit." He opened the lid of the trunk, but stopped. "What are your names?"

"Jiro Kane."

"And Zachariah Flint-Kane."

"Great." Harry tapped the lid with his wand, speaking, "Addendum, Jiro Kane, and Zachariah Flint-Kane." The lid flashed green twice.

"How long have you guys been bonded?"

"It was three years in May," answered Jiro, as Harry started to climb into the trunk. The pair quickly followed as room allowed, coming to stand in the common room once again.

"Everything's okay?" questioned Justin. He was the only one still in the common room. Harry guessed the others were in with Matt.

"The Dark Lord won't be able to find us for now," said Jiro, "Port keys are hard to trace."

"What's a port key?" questioned Justin.

"It's a type of magical transportation," said James, from his portrait, giving both Jiro and his mate a start. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter?"

"Indeed," said Lily.

"How does this 'port key' work?" Justin persisted.

"Well… you have to have a destination in mind when you charm it… an object, just about anything will do… it's set to go off at a certain time, or at once… and when it does… it takes anyone touching it to its programmed destination. Quite simple, really," Harry explained, "Though… the ministry has tough regulations on who can make a port key. Not that I really care about those rules."

"Couldn't agree with you more on that one," said Jiro, with a grin.

"You'll get along smashing with the Weasley twins," said Harry, with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh, those two were famous here for a while," said Jiro, "Caused the Death Eaters endless nightmares, 'till they finally blew up their joke shop, with them inside."

"That would kill Molly," said Harry, a dark look sliding across his face.

"It did. Her husband found her dead one morning, not long after. It's believed she died of a broken heart—I mean, she had lost Ron, your best friend, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, Percy actually went to the Death Eaters. Charlie vanished."

"Percy became a Death Eater?" Harry arched an eyebrow. "He's a prat, but he'd never betray his family."

"Yeah, lots of people agree on that point. More than likely he's been put under the Imperious curse."

"I can believe that. What about Bill and Ginny?"

"Bill's moved back to Egypt, at least that's what the word is in the underground. Don't know anything about Ginny, though."

"How do you know this stuff, all the way over here?"

"Loads of connections," answered Jiro, "The wizard world is deathly afraid of computers, but Muggle-borns aren't. We keep the information flowing, help out the resistance."

"When did Dumbledore get killed?"

"In 1997, just before the school year ended. Severus Snape took over as headmaster, and still is."

"How is he here?"

"A great man, but you know that already, right?" questioned Jiro.

"Yeah, absolutely. The Dark Lord thinks Snape's his man. Never. He loved my mum too much for that."

"He was humbled greatly with your death, Harry."

"He would be. He swore to protect me." He thought for a moment. "How did you-know-who get the Elder wand?"

"Stole it from Dumbledore's grave."

"Right. Should have known the answer to my own question." That got a strange look from both Jiro and Zack. "Guys… I need to check on Matt, then I'm gonna get a bit of rest, meditate for a while. This has been a cluster-fuck."

The guy in question was resting comfortably, with Owen seated beside the bed, while Patrick chose to stand.

"You still comfortable?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah, as comfortable is I can be, I guess."

"It was a reducto curse he nailed you with… I was able to fix it, but you still might ache for a while. How's your breathing?"

"Fine… although it still aches a little."

"Yeah, expected, as I said. Get a few more hours' rest. After which, we are all going to have a conversation." Harry's face darkened with that comment. "For now… I need to get a bit of rest myself."

"We'll keep him in place," said Owen.

"Great."

Harry closed the door to his room with a sigh. Things had gone from bad to worse. In a different world altogether, never mind just a hop across the pond, for Merlin's sake! What the hell was that?! Then, his new friends obviously have no concept of following instructions… never mind a visit from Voldemort, who shouldn't have his body! He blew out a heavy breath, throwing himself onto the bed. This would take a while… so much trash to sort through in his mind since the morning.

More than ever, he needed to get back where he belonged. Clearly, this world was far scarier than what he had seen in his future… a world completely under Voldemort's control was a nightmare. He counted his blessings for Jiro and Zach's timely arrival. He still wasn't sure if he would have been able to escape the duel otherwise, and he had to admit, only one of them would walk away from that. He closed his eyes, resigned to reorganizing the overload of information that came from the rollercoaster of events that had just taken place. It was nearly time for supper before he got up again.

Stepping into the common room, he noticed at once a few things had changed. Namely, the addition of two desks, on which sat two computer systems.

"Nice to see you guys moving in… I'll be even more impressed should they actually WORK in here," Harry smirked.

"Careful what you wish for," Jiro smirked right back, his eyes dancing with amusement, as he finalized the connections.

"But… why wouldn't it work?" Harry looked over to see Matt standing once again by the corridor to the bedrooms.

"Muggle electronics usually go haywire in magically saturated areas," answered Harry.

"Now I know why all our cell phones stopped working yesterday," said Matt, making his way over to where the group was standing, watching Jiro hook up his computer.

"Well, whatever it is now sitting in my bedroom… it was giving off a pretty strong amount of magical energy. I bet everything within about a thousand feet of it went haywire. Which is again why I'll be very surprised should these computers work here… by the way, where do you plan on plugging it in?"

"Here," said Jiro, pointing to a large box. It had eight Muggle electrical receptacles on the top of it, but the front glowed. Harry waved an index finger at it, and arched an eyebrow. "Magic behaving like electricity?"

"Yep," supplied, Jiro, "The Weasley twins invented it. They spawned a whole group of people whose job was to figure out how to make Muggle things work in magical areas. I'm one of those." He pulled the box away from the wall, and gestured to the label on the back. Sure enough, the large 'W' was plain to see: the twins' trademark.

"So… none of our equipment would ever work here, then," said Matt.

"About our equipment…" said Owen, darkly, "What happened to our bus?"

"It was destroyed, Owen," answered Matt, "The whole fucking place blew up."

"I'll replace every knut worth," Harry vowed.

"Nut?" questioned Matt.

"Every penny of it," supplied Zack, "Harry has to keep in mind there are still Muggles here."

"No matter what currency it's in, like I said, I'll help you guys replace whatever you lost. It was my fault attracting Death Eaters. You guys could have been killed."

"Never mind the fact Matt attacked the Dark Lord. Dude… what the FUCK were you thinking?"

"Trying to save Harry's ass, maybe?!" Matt shot back.

"Well, Einstein, you've signed your own death warrant," Jiro snorted, "When they catch you, you'll become the Dark Lord's play thing for a few days. Then he'll get tired of you, and kill you… not before he snaps your mind like a twig!" He finalized the connections, then switched the machine on.

Harry fell silent with what Jiro had just pointed out. Of course, he was absolutely right. The last time a Muggle had attacked Voldemort, it hadn't ended well. Word circulated that Voldemort had kept the man alive for eight days, pushing his mind to the brink. He finally, mercifully ended the suffering, and tore the body into dozens of pieces.

"See? We told you it would work," said Zachariah, drawing Harry's attention back to the present. He only nodded, the novelty of the situation having been clouded by a very grave reality. Whether Matt knew it or not, he was very much a marked man. His life as he knew it was finished.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: Weeeeee! Looks like Matt's got himself into a spot of trouble, eh? This chapter was both fun, and challenging to write, as we see just how different this universe is compared to what Harry's used to._

_A note about Jiro and Zachariah. I'm a huge fan of the 'Sims 3' game, and they are currently my main 'family' or pairing. If you're a fan, you can download Jiro from ModTheSims . com. His appearance isn't mine, but his personality certainly is. Zachariah is entirely my own creation. And yes, you will be seeing a lot of them in the future._

_(1) velocitatem – L. "swiftness, speed"_


	8. New Realities

**-CHAPTER VII-  
NEW REALITIES**

**or, new living arrangements are sought**

**

* * *

**Whatever else Jiro still had to do with his computers would have to wait, as Kreacher appeared, announcing, "Supper is ready."

Harry took in the six faces that now joined him at the supper table. It was a sure bet four of them would be following him when he returned to his own dimension. By the actions of the other two, they would be as well. He already knew the answer, but would ask just the same.

As people began talking more than eating, Harry cleared his throat. "Time for a little conversation, I think." Most of the plates had by this time disappeared. "I'm just gonna be honest. Matt… what Jiro said is true. If you stay here, the minute you show your face in public, they will find you. You've enraged Riddle beyond anything you could imagine."

"What do we do, then?" questioned Owen.

"You can't show your face in public. V—Tom probably mind-raped him."

"Mind-raped?"

"Legilimency. Except he wouldn't be subtle with it. He tried to break into my mind twice during our duel."

"It felt like my head was going to explode," said Matt, "It was like every memory I had was flying in front of my eyes."

"I'll get you an anti-headache potion if you need it later. But point made, Tom knows about all of you, and he'd make each of you targets."

"What kind of life is that!?" Patrick snorted, "We were doing fine, thank you very much!"

"Then you come along and blow everything to hell!" Owen snarled, equally frustrated.

"Guys… it's not Harry's fault," said Matt, "Fuck, if anything, whatever Harry did… part of it's my fault… and that wizard that came before Harry did." He thought for a moment. "Did you look at whatever it was?"

"No. I'm gonna wait until I get back to my own world. I'm gonna let Bill Weasley look at it."

"So you do know him," said Jiro.

"Quite intimately for a while," answered Harry, "I won't get into more detail than that… but you should know, I'm older than I look."

"Considering you fought Riddle to a draw this afternoon, yeah," said Jiro, sounding impressed.

"I've defeated him once already," supplied Harry, "Again, details I'm not gonna get into here right now. Eventually, I'll explain it."

"But no matter what, it sounds like we're going with you," said Matt, "Staying here is death."

"Matt! NO!" Owen growled, "You're gonna throw everything away just because of what HE says?!"

"Do we really have a choice, Owen?! What do you think will happen the first time we do a concert? Huh? I bet the bastard's henchmen would be watching our papers right?" Jiro nodded. "They'd most likely wait until after the concert… they do have some sense of discretion at times. Doing magic in front of a few thousand Muggles wouldn't be smart, even for the Death Eaters. They're not that powerful—yet," he said. Owen snarled something unintelligible again, slammed his fist on the table, and stormed out of the room.

"Worse comes to worse, I'll modify his memory and change his appearance," said Harry.

"NO. He'll be coming with us," said Matt, forcefully, "I'll get through to him." Harry smirked inwardly. It was clear who was the 'whip' in the group. Of course, it was equally clear the others didn't exactly agree with their leader's decision.

"Harry… about us. If you'll let us, we'd like to come along," said Zack.

"I figured that much. What about your home?"

"D'you mind giving us a hand?" questioned Jiro, "Just miniaturizing things."

"What about your family? Like, don't you guys have people that are gonna miss you?"

"No, not really," answered Jiro, "My parents are both gone, I was raised in a foster home."

"Me, I'll be glad if I never see my parents or my crazy brother ever again," said Zachariah, "They doted on him all the time, ignored me most of the time. 'course, it didn't help when they found out I was homo."

"Homo?" questioned Harry, then it clicked. "Right."

"Yeah, my parents didn't take to that very well. Either way, there's nothing keeping us here."

"We have each other, that's all that matters."

"Indeed," Harry agreed, "Tomorrow, then, that's what we'll do. I can probably set up a private flat for you guys if you like."

"You can do that?" questioned Patrick.

"That's how this was all created," said Harry, gesturing around him. "It won't be too difficult to make some additions. Anyway. Back to the larger issue. Guys, part of the blame is mine. I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you get back the reputation you have, when we return to my world. It's only fair."

"I'll believe THAT when I see it." Heads turned to see Owen standing in the arch way leading out to the common room, a scowl planted on his face.

"You guys clearly don't know who this is, do you?" questioned Jiro, gesturing to Harry. That was met by a shake of heads. "Potter is a rich guy. The estate… well, before Riddle seized it… it was pushing a worth of about one point two billion galleons. Translated into Canadian currency… well… just think about it this way… the British Pound is worth about five times the Wizarding Galleon. I think you guys can do the math."

"Really?" Harry questioned, "I mean, I just got my inheritance, haven't had a chance to look at it."

"So in other words, he's talking out his ass," Owen snorted, gesturing to Jiro.

"If you're gonna be a part of this conversation, sit your ass down," Matt gestured to his vacated seat. Owen huffed, but returned to it, still glaring at Harry.

"As I was saying… I mean, I know I have a lot of money. At least I did before." That got a questioning look from Jiro. "That's for later… but helping you guys out, it definitely won't hurt my bank account."

"Besides, just imagine, it will be like having a silent sponsor," added Zachariah.

"You make it sound like, 'oh, we can just wave our wand and it'll be all roses'! Well it ain't!" Owen snarled, "You're forgetting we have families, a life HERE! How's that supposed to be made all better, huh? Your magic can't fix everything!"

"Not the first person to say that, and yeah, a lot of others think EXACTLY what you just said, Owen. But no, magic CAN'T fix everything. Merlin knows THAT'S the truth. But it can fix a lot of things."

"We can help you guys say good bye to those who are important and so on," Jiro pointed out. This time it was Patrick who got up and stormed out of the room, as the realization hit him. Justin immediately followed.

"Merlin, I know all too well about loss," said Harry, "People who meant a lot to me… and I didn't even have the chance to say good bye. Even now, I have people back where I come from that are probably going half-spare, worried about me. I wish there was some way I could get a message back to them… at least let them know I'm all right."

"So what happened… I mean, what were you doing when you… just before you were slammed into the side of our bus, anyway?" questioned Matt.

"I was talking to Sirius, my godfather," answered Harry, "I was testing something and well… I ended up at his place. I was hit was a bad case of vertigo, and the next thing I know, you guys were standing over me."

"Sounds like you were meant to come here," said Jiro, with a shrug, "I think everything happens for a reason."

Once the others were settled into their own rooms, Harry retreated to his for the evening. The object he had recovered in Montreal peaked his curiosity, and, although he knew he should really wait for Bill, surely a few cursory magical scans and the like wouldn't do any harm, right? He opened the box with a gesture from his hand, then levitated the strange cylinder out onto the floor. Even with the damping charm placed around it, it still radiated a tremendous amount of power. It was almost like the magical equivalent to a battery. Of course, he had handled powerful artefacts before—considering most of Voldemort's Horcruxes were artefacts in their own right. Yet, this was something else. Its power felt 'old'. VERY old. He gestured with an index finger. "Reveal your secrets."

Matt was out in the common room, borrowing Jiro's computer. There were so many things that needed to be taken care of before they actually left, and the computer was a blessing in that regard. Of course, Jiro was more than happy to help out as well, occupying the second machine. The machines were connected to the internet, and with the various magical enhancements, there wasn't a whole lot they weren't able to accomplish.

A loud bang from the corridor broke their attention from the computers.

"What was that?" A sudden icy feeling washed over Matt, from head to toe. "Harry!"

"No, let me… it might be dangerous," said Jiro, but Matt was already off to Harry's room, bursting into the room, and he stopped short, finding the room in disarray. The furniture had been overturned, and it resembled the aftermath of a tornado. Harry was slumped against the wall under the smashed fake window, and he wasn't moving.

"Jesus, what was—Matt? What happened?" questioned Patrick, nervously, peering into the room.

"Move!" Jiro snapped, pushing Patrick aside, and storming into the room. He too, stopped short, seeing the destruction. "Holy shit!"

"Ditto," said Matt, "What did he do?"

"Idunno, holy fuck," said Jiro, making an intricate pattern with his wand.

Matt had to duck several times, as displaced and damaged items seemed to float around, putting themselves back into their rightful place, putting themselves back together. To him, it was a truly awesome display of magic. The bed was finally making itself, and the glass reassembled itself in the windows, the light fixtures reassembled themselves and reappeared where they belonged. He looked down, feeling something tugging at his foot. A thin journal was trying to escape from under it. He lifted his foot, and the book shot back to a stack on the dresser.(1)

"Both of you, get out," said Jiro, with a tone that left no room for argument. Patrick shrugged, and left, but Matt had no intentions of doing so.

"Are you deaf?"

"No, but who the fuck do you think you are, ordering me around?" Matt crackled, his temper rising.

"I, am a wizard. You, are a Muggle. What do YOU think you can POSSIBLY do to help?!"

"B-both of you… quiet…" Harry moaned, at last stirring.

"You all right? What happened?" questioned Matt, kneeling beside him.

"The object… I was examining it… it… didn't take kindly."

"That wasn't all that bright, Harry," said Jiro, shaking his head, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'll probably have a nasty bruise on my back," said Harry, "Impacted the window rather heavily, I think." He gestured at himself with his hand, intending to clean himself up. It barely worked, and he suddenly felt light-headed. "Shit. Help me up, Matt." Matt scrambled to his feet and obliged, helping Harry up, but the boy was in no shape to stand on his own, and collapsed into him. Needless to say, Matt was not exactly comfortable with this, but by no means was he just going to drop him. He easily lifted the boy about the waist, carried him over to his bed, and set him down. "Holy fuck."

"Now get out," said Jiro, icily. Matt only spun around, and nailed the dark-haired wizard across the jaw with a vicious punch, sending him crashing to the floor. "Wizard or not, YOU get out!" 'Where the hell did that come from?' he thought in his head, while Jiro glared back at him, spitting out a mouthful of blood. His hand moved toward his wand, but he thought better of it, scrambling to his feet. He stormed out of the room.

"Kreacher?" The little elf popped into the room. "What can Kreacher do for master Matty?"

"Harry was messing around with… he passed out." Maybe he should have just let Jiro handle it. Too late now.

"Master Harry is hurting his magic," said Kreacher, "Kreacher is taking care of young master now." He waved his thin figures at the prone boy, who was suddenly dressed in his pyjamas. Another wave of the hand, and he was tucked into bed. "Young master is nearly depleting his magic and is needing watching."

"That can happen?" questioned Matt, digging in his jeans for his pack of cigarettes. It probably wasn't polite to smoke in Harry's room, but he was feeling more than stressed at the moment.

"If a wizard over extends himself yes it can," said Kreacher, "Master Harry unleashed powerful magics, he did."

"Will he heal?"

"He will heal, yes, but not quickly. You is helping take care of him now?"

"I… of course. His parents… their portrait… they need to know what happened."

"Kreacher is fetching their portrait now," answered the elf, and he was gone with a light POP. He returned a moment later bringing the portrait in question. He was followed by Justin and Patrick. "What happened to him?" questioned Patrick.

"Master Harry is hurting his magic," answered the elf.

"So that's what the loud bang was earlier," said James, as their portrait was placed on the wall.

"Oh, Harry, what have you done to yourself?" questioned Lily, sounding very concerned.

"Kreacher is returning to the kitchen now." With that, the elf vanished with a light pop.

The rest of the evening was spent barely moving from the room. He was somewhat confused by the emotions he was feeling. The boy was clearly important for their safety—Jiro was just an arrogant ass, that was for sure. Pushing his way into the trunk—magical or not, obviously this was Harry's home. The guy and his partner had just invited themselves in! Had it been Matt's place, they would have been thrown out on their arses! Sure, Jiro was quite helpful with some of the legal processes and whatnot, but his attitude was grating at best.

If anything, Harry was too kind. What was the story anyway? He leaned back in the chair beside the bed, resting his head against the wall. The question was, why did he care? It was almost as if something were commanding him to watch over the boy. To make sure he was safe. Yet, how could he do that? And WHY would he want to do that? It didn't make any sense!

"…_you can't save them all, Harry…" the high, cold voice taunted, the sounds of maniacal laughter filling his head. The scene showed a Muggle playground in broad daylight, with every single man, woman, and child laying dead at the hands of Voldemort and a group of his Death Eaters. No Aurors would be coming; Voldemort WAS the Ministry of Magic, after all. The Order of the Phoenix was virtually crippled, and Snape, stuck at the school, was not much use as a spy of late, so the Order was a non-factor._

The dream changed.

"_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

"_Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…"_

"_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"_

"_This is my last warning—"_

"_Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry Please—I'll do anything—"_

"_Stand aside—stand aside, girl—"(2)_

_A brilliant green flash filled the scene, accompanied by a piercing scream._

Harry sat bolt upright in the bed, a scream at the tip of his tongue, while his head throbbed—although not his scar—course not, Voldemort had not come back yet… not at this time—at least not in his own world. Nonetheless, the dreams still hurt, an exact reminder of what his mortal enemy was capable of—equally as much as what had happened the previous afternoon.

A soft snort to the left of him got his attention: Matt had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed. 'How did I end up here?' he wondered. He had been changed into pyjamas, and tucked into bed. 'Kreacher', he guessed. Matt didn't come across as a cuddly type.

His mind settled back on the current conundrum he faced: how did he end up in a parallel universe? Not only that, but how did his trunk follow? This was definitely beyond a simple time-turner. Very powerful magic was at work, that was his only conclusion. As powerful as the artefact that had blown him across the room. He assumed Jiro had cleaned things up. Harry guessed the guy was in his mid twenties, so was more than capable of an advanced clean-up charm.

Another snort beside him reminded Harry he was not alone. He had six new friends, and his parents' portrait, as well as Kreacher—the old house elf had undergone an amazing transformation in the short few days he had been in the trunk. The thing was, how would he ever honour his promise to him now?

Next time he woke, the light of an overcast morning was streaming through the fake windows of the room. He was alone, but he could hear voices from the other rooms: the others were up and about. His head felt like it was about to explode, and his body felt terribly weak. He knew what had happened: he had somehow overtaxed his core, and made himself sick.

"Kreacher?" Harry whispered. The elf popped in beside the bed.

"Master Harry is staying in bed today, he is," the elf announced, at once adjusting the bedding.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to get you the present I promised you, Kreacher," said Harry, "But… well… given how things have ended up… I can't just yet."

"Kreacher understands."

"I will do it, somehow. And I know you will like it." The elf nodded, then said, "Master Harry is needing breakfast now, and Kreacher will be bringing it." He popped away. A moment later, he returned, bringing a tray with cereal, toast, and a few slices of fruit.

"Thank you, Kreacher."

"Sleep all right?" Matt stood in the doorway.

"yes and no. Feel like I've been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs, though."

"A herd of what?"

"Oh… err… like horses. I'll show you sometime," said Harry, adjusting his position so he could eat, and moving the tray over his lap.

"You look sick, mate," said Matt, moving to take the seat beside the bed again.

"It's magical exhaustion. I should have known better than mess around with that thing—" he gestured to the box by the dresser—"Now I'm paying for it. Matt… promise me you won't touch that… or anything else in here if you're not sure of it. I don't want you guys hurt."

"Sure," said Matt, and then asked, "How long will it take you to heal?"

"I dunno, a few days, a few hours. I've done it so much, it varies."

"Can you still do magic?"

"Not really a good idea. Even doing small stuff could knock me out again, or worse. I could end up a squib."

"A what?"

"Someone who knows about magic, but can't use it."

"Like me?"

"No, you're a Muggle. Like I said before, you shouldn't even KNOW about magic."

The two of them fell silent for a minute, while Harry had a bit more of his breakfast. Matt was finally able to get a good look at the young wizard as he ate, and for the first time noticed the lightning-shaped scar over his right eye. "What happened there?" he questioned, daring to reach over and trace the mark; the skin was raised along the edges, as if it had been done recently. It felt like a scab.

"I guess now is as good a time as any, to tell you the story of a man named Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Harry, at last pushing the tray off to the side. Kreacher appeared immediately, and took the tray away. 'How was it the elf knew when Harry was done?' Matt wondered, while Harry continued, "Anyway… the story begins in early July of 1980, when the headmaster of my school was interviewing a woman to become the new Divination teacher. She wasn't the brightest woman in the world—and I can tell you that from personal experience… but the headmaster hired her anyway, for her protection. All because she told a prophecy …" Harry paused, and recited the prophecy Dumbledore had wanted to keep guarded and secret for so long.

"So the prophecy is about you?"

"It actually could have meant one of two babies born at the end of July that year. Me, or one of my close friends, Neville Longbottom. Right brilliant wizard he is… So anyway… Riddle, or, Lord V-you-know-who as he has named himself—I'll refer to him from here on out as you-know-who… had a spy listening in the night the woman, Sybill Trelawney, made the prophecy. Of course he only heard part of it, but he tore back to you-know-who and reported what he heard, incorrect information as it was. I think in hindsight, had Riddle known the entire contents of the prophecy, he would have waited. As it was, wanting to eliminate the implied threat, he attacked.

"I'm not going into all the back details, but my parents did go into hiding, and one of their closest friends betrayed them. On Halloween night, 1981, Riddle attacked. He killed my parents, then turned his wand on me…"

Matt once again saw the same vision as he had the previous morning… a woman pleading for Harry's life, a blast of green light that filled his vision, and a horrible wail. "Your mother was killed by a green light?"

"She was… how do you know that?"

"I saw it… like a memory, or a dream."

"When I gave you some of my blood… of course!" Harry guessed, "You need to tell me if you see anything else like that… or if anything, err… well, weird happens around you." Matt only smirked, and gestured around him. "And this ain't?"

"Touché," Harry conceded, then continued, "So he turned his wand on me, and cast the killing curse—that same green magic you saw. Except that it backfired, leaving me with this scar."

"And Riddle died?"

"No… no he didn't. Because, see, Riddle had done some truly horrible things to make sure he COULDN'T die. He's created containers… Horcruxes… that contain pieces of his soul. And far worse… this…" Harry again gestured to his scar, "Is one of them."

"Is it dangerous? Does it hurt?"

"Well… yes, it hurts sometimes, usually if I'm close to him… and well… it's not dangerous, exactly… except that… as long as it's inside of me… so long as Riddle has just one of those things, he can't be destroyed."

"So you have to die?"

"Yes and no. It's kind of like a 'freebee' the best way to put it. I can 'die' once, without actually dying."

"How do you know that though? What if you're wrong?"

"You just have to trust me. There'll be a time when I will have to get rid of it, because until I do, Riddle will continue to survive."

"Right. Neither can live while the other survives."

"So in other words, the monster that attacked yesterday will do it again wherever you're from." Both Harry and Matt looked up to see Owen and Patrick standing at the door, Owen was again glaring at Harry.

"Yes. I won't lie to you, quite likely I will confront him again. But as things are now, he's just a shade, with no real power. He tried to get his body back at the end of June, but we stopped him from doing it."

"So what's wrong with you?" questioned Patrick, moving to stand beside the dresser.

"The magical artefact I collected in Montreal… it didn't take kindly to my examining it."

"It blew up his bedroom," said Matt, "Holy fuck you're lucky you weren't killed."

"I'll second that. It also means I'm not doing any magic today. Owen or Patrick… could one of you fetch Jiro for me?"

"Um… about Jiro," said Matt, messaging his right hand, while Patrick left the room. Harry spotted the inflamed knuckles and knew at once what had happened. "I'll get you a pain-relieving potion in a second."

"What'd ya do, punch him out?" Owen smirked.

"It's not funny," said Matt, coldly. The object of discussion appeared in the doorway. He, too, did not look happy. "What?"

"Guys, please," said Harry, "I just need to let you know, I'm not going to be doing much today. I know I promised to help but—"

"It's all good, got it under control," answered Jiro. He was still giving Matt death glares, and the interaction was not lost on Harry.

"Right. Mate, your help is really appreciated. Your attitude, on the other hand…"

"He's an asshole," Matt finished. That got another death glare from Jiro.

"Err… well… no, but still. Look, guys. I'll put this in simple black and white. Next time there's a fight, SOMEONE will be put in a full body bind for a time I feel appropriate. Don't make me treat you like five-year olds."

"Then maybe you should remind Mr. TYSON here, it's a criminal offence for a Muggle to attack a wizard," Jiro huffed.

"Dragging out a pureblood law? That's petty," said Harry, frowning, "Really petty. Just drop it, the both of you."

Harry laid back down as the others left, blowing out a breath. "Worse than a bunch of children," he muttered.

"You handled them well, son," said James.

"Pretty bad when 'I' am supposedly the kid here."

"But Harry, don't you see? Mr. Tyson cares for you," Lily pointed out, "Or he wouldn't act the way he is. You've gained yourself a loyal friend there."

"I guess… Kreacher?"

"Yes, master Harry?" said the elf, after popping in to stand beside the bed.

"Grab a pain-relieving potion and take it to Matt. He's hurt his hand last night."

"Right away, master Harry." The elf went over to the large cabinet in the corner, opened it, and drew out a vial. After closing the cabinet, he popped away.

"We're still very proud of you, son," said James. Harry felt his cheeks get warm at the praise from his father. In another time, he had gotten that often, but it still felt good either way. Even though in a portrait, his parents still proved to be extremely helpful. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to again rest. How deeply he wished he could let people know he was okay!

Sometime later, Matt returned to Harry's room to make sure he was okay. He was startled to discover a brilliant red bird resting on the headboard, preening its feathers. The bird looked up, seeming to appraise Matt for a moment, then let out a trill, a single, wonderful note filling the air.

"Do you belong to Harry?" The bird seemed to shake its head, its black eyes staring holes in Matt's chest. A sudden rush of memories flashed in front of his eyes, then all ceased, the bird once again letting out a long, musical call.

"How come you're here?" The bird looked down at Harry, who had not moved an inch, even with the noise the bird had made.

"Did he call you somehow?" The bird nodded.

"You're a magical bird, then?" The bird nodded again.

"It's Dumbledore's familiar," said James, "He must've somehow known Harry needed help."

"Even in another dimension?"

"He's a phoenix, a very powerful magical animal," explained Lily, "And Harry has a strong connection with him."

"Like what he shares with… you-know-who?"

"I strongly doubt that. But it's likely got a bit in common, I would assume. It's truly an honour to stand in his presence, phoenixes are one of the most light-oriented creatures in our world," said Lily. Matt only nodded, and approached the bird, daring to reach out and stroke its beautiful feathers. It was truly a magnificent creature, far beyond anything Matt had seen before.

"He likes you," said Lily, "Or he'd never let you near him." Matt only nodded, continuing to stroke the bird's feathers. A single memory was playing over and over in his head. The event that had shaped all that had followed thus far—the powerful wizard and the strange object left near their bus in Montreal.

The next time Harry awoke, it was dark, with the light of the waxing half-moon providing the only light through the fake window. He was starting to feel better, but still wasn't at one hundred percent. He could get away with lesser spells, but nothing major, such as a Patronus. "Tempus," he whispered, directing with his right index finger. '3:22 am' wafted from it. It was quite early, but he had been on his back long enough.

Sitting up, it was then he noticed he was not alone in the room. "Fawkes! How did you get here?" Harry was shocked and excited Dumbledore's familiar had been able to find him. The bird only blinked at him, letting out a happy trill. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Can you get a letter back to… certain people?" the bird nodded. "Great! I know they're worried about me."

That answered the first order of business. He made his way out to the drawing table in the common room. It was dimly lit by several gas lamps, but with a gesture from his hand, they brightened, bathing the room in warm light. Quickly procuring paper and a pen, he scribbled out a letter.

"Okay, Fawkes, this goes to Cedric Diggory," said Harry. He had debated who should be notified first, but it was a fairly easy call in the end. Sirius was his godfather, but Cedric was his love. He would share the note with Sirius no matter what, although Harry did say for him to do exactly that.

As Harry was tying the letter to the phoenix's leg, he heard a door open.

"Feeling better?" questioned Matt, stepping into the common room.

"Getting there. Enough to be up and about. Have you met Fawkes?" Harry gestured to the bird.

"Yeah, earlier."

"Git. You could've woke me," said Harry, in a mock-scolding voice, as he finished securing the letter. "Okay, off you go. If you can, wait for a reply and come back." The bird only nodded, then burst into flames and vanished. Matt shielded his face in shock.

"Holy fuck! What… what happened to him?!"

"He's a phoenix. It's how they travel when they don't fly," Harry explained.

"He will come back?" Matt was still shocked by what had just happened.

"Definitely. Likely with a couple of letters at minimum."

* * *

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place had been in an uproar since Harry vanished two, now going on three days ago. The majority of the Order of the Phoenix now walked its halls, as clues to the boy's location were ferreted out. Cedric had also been brought to the residence and given the secret so he could come and go as well—it was only fair he be allowed to help out, considering how close he was to Harry.

Ron and Hermione were also there, along with most of the Weasley family. Molly had taken it particularly hard, considering she saw Harry as an eighth child. She was in such a terrible state, she could not help prepare the meals as she usually did; Dobby and Winky were only too happy to take over.

The large group was currently sitting down for lunch, now nearing the third day since Harry vanished. Ron was barely touching his food, in stark contrast to his usual eating habits. In fact, the twins were equally not eating all that much; it affected all the Weasley children in some way.

Just then, with a flash of flame, Fawkes appeared behind Cedric's chair. He hopped down to the table, and held his leg out, around which was secured a letter.

"Maybe Dumbledore found him!" said Ginny, hopefully. They all knew who the bird was, and who he belonged to.

"No, I think he'd just bring 'im here," said Ron, between bites, "I mean, why waste the time?"

"He's right, Ginny."

"It's from Harry!" exclaimed Cedric, as he opened the letter. Everyone's head snapped up at the utterance, including a particular potions master, who stood at his usual dark corner of the room.

Cedric began reading: "Cedric, Do not read this aloud… err, sorry guys, guess it's just meant for me." He then continued reading:

_I don't want you to share this with anyone except for Sirius, for now. I don't know what happened, but, I have somehow been sent to a parallel universe. Kreacher is with me to keep me company in the trunk, which seems to have somehow followed me—Merlin only knows how THAT happened. I'm very much in the dark about how I'm going to get back. Maybe share this with Hermione, ask her if she could help… I'm really at a loss and well… I'm sort of involved now, I hope you understand._

_Feel free to send back a reply with Fawkes, he seems to know how to find me. Let Padfoot also read this, it's meant for him too._

_I miss you so much, Cedric. You're never far from my thoughts. Neither are you, Padfoot._

_Love you both,_

_Harry_

Cedric felt a range of emotions as he read the letter. Clearly, Harry was all right, but yet… 'Leave it to Potter,' he thought, passing the letter to Sirius.

"Well? Is it Potter?" questioned Mad-Eye Moody.

"I'm certain," answered Cedric, "Excuse me."

"Well, where is he?" questioned Tonks, sporting very bright pink hair.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," said Sirius, looking up from the letter, "Although it seems trouble does follow him."

* * *

"Where are your friends at… as far as what I've asked?" Harry questioned, taking a seat in front of one of the computers. It hadn't been all that long since he'd touched one after all.

"Still very divided," answered Matt, occupying the other seat, "I mean, even I'm put out by this crazy-assed suggestion… holy fuck."

"I would be if the tables were turned. But it's the only way you guys will have a chance, you know that right?" Harry pointed out. Matt only nodded. "I know. But still, it's difficult. Then the prick has to—"

"Who?"

"Jiro… fucking ass… he's just—I swear to God I almost decked him again earlier. You wizards aren't all that bright sometimes."

"No, not always." Harry had to fight to keep from laughing. This was a serious topic, after all. "Just try and be patient. If this stuff is all the twins' work, I want Jiro to share it with them."

"So you're just keeping them here for that?"

"yes and no," answered Harry, "Having another wand here is a good thing. If we're attacked again, I'll take all the help I can get."

"Owen's about ready to clock him too."

"Just try to keep it together around him. I'll fix it today so they have their own apartment, and we won't see them as much."

"You should see their room now… holy fuck, they moved half the furniture down here already."

"Well of course, Jiro's a wizard. He'll likely get rid of his house pretty quick. What about you? Do you have things you'll want to keep?"

"I have a flat in London."

"I can probably have Kreacher go and collect everything for you, if you'd like."

"What about Patrick, Justin, and Owen?"

"If that's what they want, I can do the same thing."

"Your elf… he'll be careful? There's some shit that's a bit—"

"Fragile? Yeah, of course he'll be careful. I won't send him off just yet, he's probably asleep."

Once breakfast had finished, Harry passed the memory of Matt's flat to Kreacher by Legilimency, and the elf popped away—Harry had obtained a memory of it earlier. He had to give a mischievous smirk. Hopefully no one else would be there—they would be in for a rather startling shock!

In the mean time, he helped Jiro and Zachariah finish packing up the contents of their house. The order of business that afternoon would be to create a separate apartment for them, so they wouldn't be constantly butting heads with the members of Thrice Defied.

That train of thought was interrupted, as Fawkes flashed into the common room, to land on the chair at the drawing table. He had several letters in his claws.

"Fawkes. You got back to Sirius and Cedric?" The bird seemed to nod, then hopped down onto the table in front of Harry. The bird had several letters tied to his leg, which Harry relieved him of.

"What… what is that?" questioned Owen, finally finding his voice. He happened to be stepping out of the dining room when the bird arrived. Harry grinned, saying, "This is Fawkes, and he's a phoenix."

"He's… beautiful."

"I haven't met anyone who thought otherwise," said Harry, relieving Fawkes of the letters. He took a seat at the drawing table, and while Matt looked on, he picked up the first letter.

"What's that?" Matt pointed to the wax seal that kept the letter closed.

"The Black family crest. This one's from my godfather," answered the teen, as he broke open said seal.

_Harry,_

_Glad to hear you are okay, Dumbledore was in a right state when you up and disappeared three days ago. I'm sorry to have to tell you, but he was able to read the letter—his magic is somewhat more powerful than mine—needless to say we aren't on speaking terms at the moment due to that little stunt. He's got Minerva and Filius already doing research into what may have caused your disappearance._

_Although he is not sending you a letter himself, he did pass on word that you may continue to call on Fawkes to keep us all up to date on what is going on. You should also remember, and I quote, 'should things become too difficult, Fawkes is a remarkable bird, as you may remember from your dealings at the end of your second year'._

Harry stopped reading. Of course! He could go home at any time! Fawkes could just… just flash him home! Just grab his tail feathers, and all of this would be over. He would be back with Cedric, get back to the plans he had started to put into action a few days ago…

Yet, he just needed to look to the man who stood behind him, probably reading over his shoulder. These guys were all in grave danger. He couldn't just leave them here. There were loose ends to deal with first! He continued reading:

_I, on the other hand, know how you work, Harry. I know that you will consider Dumbledore's words for all of five seconds before discarding them to the virtual rubbish bin—although I do suggest you keep his point in mind. If it gets too dangerous, do not risk your life. You do have a destiny here, keep in mind._

_Do keep in touch, Harry._

_Love, _

_Sirius_

That letter lifted his spirits a fair bit. What had his boyfriend wrote? He opened that next.

_Harry,_

_You have no idea how terrified I was when Sirius informed me what happened to you. I am relieved you are okay, I have slept very little over the past three days. Your letter will have to keep me company until you return—Sirius and I had to threaten Dumbledore with bodily harm before he would return it… Git. _(Harry snickered when he read that… 'my knight in shining armour…', he thought, and a giggle escaped his lips)

_The entire Order has been reassembled, and they've been working overtime trying to figure out what happened to you—at least until your letter arrived. Now, of course—I'm sure you've already read Sirius' letter—Dumbledore's got them all digging into this 'parallel dimension' theory. You're absolutely sure you've gone to a different dimension? I didn't think that sort of thing was even possible._

_Do be careful, Harry. Love you always,_

_Cedric_

Hermione and Ron's letters were predictable, with each going through a range of emotions, Hermione raving about him 'contaminating the time stream', while Ron seemed to be impressed at Harry's 'prank'. It wasn't a prank! Sometimes his best friend could be as thick as a brick.

When Harry finally looked up from the last letter, Matt could see the strong effect all the letters had on the boy. He had lost some of the edge he had been carrying since they had met.

"Thanks for your help, Fawkes," said Harry, "Do you need to be getting back anytime soon?" The bird only let out a happy trill, as if to answer, "Nope! I'm yours."

"He's got a beautiful voice," said Matt.

"His song is one of the most beautiful things you will ever hear," answered Harry, "It's a strong symbol of the light side. I've heard it a few times, each when I was about to die." That got a dark look from Matt. "He's saved me at least twice. His tears have powerful healing properties." Harry turned back to the bird. "Can I ask you a favour, then?" The bird blinked at him. "Great. Can you retrieve something from Dumbledore's library?" The bird shifted on his perch as though uncertain. "I just need to borrow it and I know if I asked he would probably say no. I'm not doing anything bad, it's just… the particular book—or journal I need has instructions on how to do some very advanced magic, something I want to do here in the trunk," Harry explained, then added, "Besides, when have you last had a chance to play a prank on him?"

Harry swore he saw a mischievous glint in the bird's eyes as he opened his wings and flashed away. 'Bloody hell, he didn't even wait for me to tell him which book I needed!'

* * *

Yesterday had been a tiring day for Albus Dumbledore. He had been sure that, with the gentle nudge he had included in Sirius' letter, Harry would just return with Fawkes. Alas, this was not the case, and, as he entered his office to start the day, the bird had still not returned—he was startled out of his thoughts as said bird appeared in a burst of flames. He did not have Harry with him, however, as he settled on his perch for a few moments.

"Harry's still not decided to come back, I see." There was disappointment in Dumbledore's voice. Fawkes let out a happy trill, and looked back at the headmaster as if to say, 'He's busy and he'll come back when he's good and ready!' He lit from the perch, flying up to the upper shelf of books, seeming to look for something. Abruptly, a claw shot out, snagged a book; both bird and book vanished in another burst of golden flames.

"Perhaps Fawkes is serving two masters," said the portrait of Armando Dippet.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore spoke, "Although if Harry desired something from my collection, he could have just asked."

"Oh come off it, Dumbledore, you know exactly what your answer would have been!" the portrait of Phineas Black snorted.

"Yes, particularly THAT volume," said Dumbledore, noting the particular book Fawkes had taken. It wasn't a book, exactly, more like a heavy journal, covering some of the rarest and most advanced charms in existence. Alas, Harry most likely had a strong need of it, and it wasn't like he could just force the bird back with it. No, this was definitely a battle lost.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So… how are people liking Jiro? *smirks* Yes, he is an arrogant ass at times. Harry won't put up with it for long, neither will Ron or Hermione for that matter. That's gonna be fun._

_Matt's band-mates, of course, are very much torn at this point, and of course they are all very right: what Harry is asking is pretty steep, if perhaps unreasonable. How will that work out? Wait and see…_

_(1) This idea is taken from HBP, movie-verse, when Dumbledore helps Slughorn to put the house he was 'borrowing' back to rights._

_(2) Taken from p. 281, Deathly Hallows, Canadian soft-cover edition._


	9. Nightmares of a Future Past

**-CHAPTER VIII-  
NIGHTMARES OF A FUTURE PAST **

**Or, how Harry's future memories continue to haunt him**

**

* * *

**Harry was more than pleased, when Fawkes reappeared in front of him, and deposited the journal on the table.

"You don't know how much I appreciate your help, my friend," said Harry, gratefully. "I don't like deceiving Dumbledore, but sometimes he needs to just step back and let me solve things on my own. But I do look up to him like a grandfather, you know." The bird let out a happy trill, as if to say, 'I know that!' He regarded Harry for a second, then vanished again in a burst of golden flames.

"So… he just grabbed that from your own… well… world?" questioned Matt. Harry nodded.

"How much can he carry?"

"Yes, he could take us back to my world, and that's most likely what we'll do," answered Harry. 'Matt was VERY perceptive,' he thought.

"So what's that for?"

"It's a journal put together by a very powerful witch a couple of centuries ago," Harry explained, taking a seat at the drawing table. "There's stuff in here I sort of know how to do already, but needed the journal to refresh my memory." He leafed through the book, then closed it. "It'll be a bit of late-night reading."

They were again interrupted, as Kreacher popped into the room, bringing with him several large crates. "Kreacher is bringing master Matty's things."

"Put everything in my room for now," said Matt. The elf popped away.

"There's probably things you'll want right away, right?"

"Yeah, probably."

Harry ended up spending the rest of the afternoon helping Matt sort through the things Kreacher had collected from his flat. Harry ended up having to expand his room, the process of which totally floored the guy. After all, it wasn't every day one saw a room expand before their very eyes.

Even with the amount of stuff that was pulled out and placed, most of his things remained in the boxes, which were neatly stacked at one corner out of the way, covered up with a large blanket Harry had conjured, "So you don't have to stare at a bunch of ugly boxes," Harry had said.

"Why can't you just shrink those down?"

"The stuff inside already has a shrinking charm on them, probably not a good idea."

"Oh." Harry, meanwhile, was looking at the two guitars that now rested on their stands in front of the boxes. There were a few other devices collected around them; Harry assumed they worked with the guitars, given the number of cables as well. "Don't try and… um… your stuff won't work here in the trunk."

"Not without a few adjustments." Matt and Harry turned to see Jiro standing in the doorway.

"Like your computer," Harry guessed. Jiro nodded. "The shit that went down yesterday… it stressed me out, okay?"

"Like I wasn't?" Matt pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

"Point taken. It was crazy for all of us. Zack and I had a 'discussion' last night after well…" He offered a hand. "Start over?" Matt looked at the gesture, shrugged, and accepted.

"Great," said Harry, "I really need everyone here working together if you're gonna stay."

"So Zack pointed out, not as nicely either."

"I'm just about done helping Matt, so I can start on your apartment. Do you have an idea how you want it laid out?"

"You want me to draw something?"

"Yeah, it would be helpful," said Harry. Just then, Zachariah raced into the room. "GUYS! You need to see this."

They followed Zachariah back out to the common room, where he took a seat at the computer he had been using. He began to read: "Up and coming English metal band missing after fiery explosion…

"A massive explosion and fire at a truck stop just west of Trenton two days ago has claimed the lives of eleven people, and injured thirty-seven, according to Quinte West fire and rescue services. Six people are still missing, including all four members of 'Thrice Defied', an English heavy metal band who were on the bill at this year's Warped Tour. The body of their driver, thirty-six year old Adam Forsythe, was identified early yesterday amongst the wreckage of the band's tour bus…"

"So people will think we're dead," said Matt.

"It's a perfect solution, actually," thought Harry aloud. That got a dark look from Matt. "No, think about it. As far as the public goes, you guys are gone, you're not coming back. You let those people who really count know the truth."

"Of course the letters will all have secrecy charms so they can't tell anyone," Jiro added.

"I guess." Matt was still VERY uncomfortable with the notion.

"We'll have to send them all through Muggle post though… I doubt your close friends would like it very much getting a visit from a post owl," said Jiro, with a smirk.

"A post-owl?" Matt arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's how we send mail in the wizard world. I'll introduce you to Hedwig when we get back. By the way… do you know what happened to her?"

"Don't know, sorry," answered Jiro, with a shrug, "She did help the twins out for a while, but after they were killed… Not really sure."

"Did you know your driver well?"

"Not really. He was a nice guy and all, but we didn't spend a lot of time together, if that's what you mean," answered Matt, although he seemed to be in a bit of a fog. The events of the past few days were taking a toll. Harry knew all about that feeling, being slammed with one calamity after another. "If you need an ear to listen… that goes for any of you… I'll do my best," he offered in support.

"I appreciate that."

Once supper was over with, Harry again retreated to his room, this time to review the journal he had borrowed from Dumbledore's library. Even though he was off in a different world, he still had an agenda to push on with. The journal would help him exactly as it had the first time around, building and configuring a Room of Requirement. It was some of the most complicated spell work he had ever performed, and had taken the better part of a day the first time around, breaking only for meals.

Of course, there were other things in the journal that were useful as well, including a "Doppelganger charm". He'd attempted it, but had never been able to get it to work correctly. It would be very useful if he could master it.

Next thing he knew, it was eleven o'clock. He set the journal down, changed into his pyjamas with a gesture from his hand, and climbed into bed. Tomorrow was going to be as crazy a day as today was, after all. He just knew it!

"…_hide yourself below, Harry…" The scene was that of an open room with a high ceiling, the moonlight casting an eerie light across the floor. A large instrument of sorts took up most of the space in the room. The speaker looked to be ancient, with a long, flowing beard, eyes blinking behind half-moon spectacles. "Don't speak or be seen by anybody without my permission… Whatever happens, it's imperative you stay below. Harry? Do as I say…" the scene whirled around as Harry obeyed the man's instructions, descending a set of stairs that led under the room, this one filled with clutter. Through the loose wooden floor, however, he could still see up through, where the old man now stood alone, at least momentarily._

"_Good evening, Draco," said the old man. Harry looked up, and could see the new speaker on the other side of the room, his wand trained on the old man. "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"_

"_Who else is here? I heard you talking," demanded Draco, harshly._

"_I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful," answered the old man, appearing to be un-wavered by the threat. "Have you always been to yourself, Draco?"_

"…"

"_Draco," the old man breathed, "You are no assassin."_

"_How do you know what I am?! I've done things that would shock you," answered the boy named Draco._

"_Oh, like cursing Katie Bell and hoping that in return she would bear a cursed necklace to me? Like replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison. Forgive me, Draco, I cannot help feel these actions are so weak that your…" the old man paused for a moment, then continued, "Heart can't really have been in it."_

"_He TRUSTS me! I've been chosen," declared Draco, doing something Harry could not see._

"_I shall make it easy for you," said the old man, raising his arms in a gesture of surrender, wand still gripped in his right hand._

"_Expelliarmus!" cried Draco, and the old man's wand clattered against a far wall._

"_Very good, very good," spoke the old man, just as a door opened somewhere out of sight. Harry looked around._

"_You are not alone? There are others. How?"_

"_The vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement," answered Draco, hastily, "I've been mending it."_

"_Let me guess. It has a sister, a twin."_

"_In Borgin and Burkes. They form a passage."_

"_Ingenious." The old man paused and then spoke, "Draco, years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you."_

"_I don't want your help! Don't you understand!? I have to do this!" said Draco, half frightened, almost pleading. Shadows were ascending a spiral staircase to the right of Harry's vision now. "I have to kill you, or he's gonna kill me!"_

"_Well, look what we have here," said a woman's voice, in mock-pleasantry. Harry could see the woman the voice belonged to in all her crazy glory; she looked like someone who escaped from the locked ward at a mental institution. "Well done, Draco."_

"_Good evening, Belletrix," said the old man, as if he were welcoming guests for afternoon tea. Draco, meanwhile, looked terrified. "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"_

"_Love to, Albus, but I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule," the woman named Belletrix answered curtly, barely a whisper that cracked like a whip, then to Draco, "Do it!"_

"_He doesn't have the stomach. Just like his father," spoke a new speaker. Harry could not see the person. "Let me finish him in my own way."_

"_NO!" Belletrix hissed, "The Dark Lord was clear the boy has to do it! This is your moment, Draco, Do it!" Harry turned to see another dark shape, his wand pointed at him, a finger to his lips. This man had long hair that curtained his face, and a hooked nose. He too disappeared up the stairs. "Go on Draco, Now!"_

"_No," spoke a new voice—the man Harry had just seen with him below._

"_Severus," spoke the old man, "…please."_

"_Avada kedavra." The scene filled with a brilliant green light, blasting the old man over the ledge and out of sight.(1)_

Matt woke with a start, his heart pounding, and an agonized cry coming from somewhere: Harry's room, next door. Steadying his nerves, he eased out of bed, slid on his jeans, then made his way into the corridor.

Before he could get any further, two more doors opened. Both Justin and Owen had heard the scream as well, and looked at Matt quizzically.

"I got it, get back to sleep," he answered. His band mates only nodded, and vanished back into their rooms. He made off for Harry's room.

The boy was balled up in the middle of the bed, a mass of nerves, deep sobs echoing on the walls of the room. Had he just seen the same dream? Matt was at a loss as to what to do at this point. 'His potions… what cabinet were they in again?' he glanced around the room, and spotted the large wardrobe in the corner. Checking it, he was disappointed to find it locked. "Kreacher?"

It took several seconds before the elf in question appeared. 'Very late or very early,' Matt realized.

"Matty call for Kreacher?"

"Where does Harry keep his potions?" he indicated the emotionally shattered boy balled up on the bed. The elf let out a gasp, pattering over to a second cupboard. With a wave of his hand, there was a click, and the doors opened. The elf pulled out a potion, and handed it to Matt.

"Master Harry is needing calming draught," croaked the elf.

"Thank you, Kreacher." The elf gave a low bow, then left the room, while Matt sat on the edge of the bed, then gently shook Harry. "Harry?" The teen would not budge. "Harry. Look at me." The boy finally broke out of his ball, to look at Matt. "Here." Harry reached up a shaky hand, and accepted the potion, quickly consuming it in spite of the horrid taste.

"Thank you."

"I heard you shouting. You gonna be okay?"

"I think," answered Harry, but as Matt began to stand, Harry grabbed onto his belt, and pulled him back down. "Stay with me… please." His green eyes held more fear than anything. This, from the same boy who had fought fearlessly against the dark wizard the day before—it was just wrong. Sighing to himself, he obliged.

In another time and another place he would have been mortified and offended for another male to even SUGGEST such a thing. Yet, here and now, this kid who had more than saved his life, needed saving of his own at the moment. Harry had already shifted over to the opposite side of the bed, and turned to face away from him, making it clear he respected personal boundaries, even with his request.

He lay on his back and blew out a breath, his mind wandering back to the dream he'd just had himself. The act he had witnessed the dark-clothed wizard commit… it just seemed exponentially heinous. The old man—obviously a wizard—gave off an aura of power… why had he allowed the boy to disarm him? It was as if… as if he were allowing himself to be killed… to be sacrificed. But, WHY?

Something was tickling Harry's nose. Dust? No, hair, his subconscious eye answered. Soft denim rubbed against the back of his legs as well, as he lay on his side. Who… skin? His mind was still hazy. Cedric? Where am I again? He opened his eyes, and was assaulted by the insanely bright light blazing in through the false window, although partially filtered by few wisps of long, black hair that lay across his face.

The body next to him shifted, pulling the hair away from his face. It actually tickled, to tell the truth. And his smell… he smelled slightly of cologne and tobacco smoke. Then, it all clicked: one of the few particularly disturbing memories that still haunted his dreams. The night he lost Dumbledore. What had brought on this particular memory, though? It had been several weeks since he had dreamt of that one. It made even less sense, considering the subject of said dream was very much alive at this point (although likely not very happy with Harry at the moment).

The body next to him was Matt, who had more than looked after him that morning—he must've gotten Kreacher to help with the potion, what with unknowing Muggles in the flat, it wouldn't do for them to get into something. Some items in his stores were fatal if used incorrectly. He had to smile, turning over to face the man. He was laying face-down now, sprawled out over his side of the bed. 'Restless sleeper,' Harry thought, observing him.

Of course, by Matt's hesitation at the request, Harry knew not to ever push things. As much as he might WISH for every attractive boy on the planet to 'play that end of the field', it wasn't reality. 'Besides,' he thought, he had someone waiting back in his own world who, absolutely DID play that way… A smirk covered his lips, as he thought about his boyfriend, and his cock very quickly arose to the occasion. 'Shit, most inappropriate,' thought Harry again, trying quickly to douse the fire that threatened to run away with him. 'If Matt saw that… bloody hell.' The tent in his pyjamas slowly deflated, and Harry sighed with relief.

"My, my, Prongslet, you move quickly," James smirked from his portrait.

"Dad! Shhhh! I was half 'round the twist this morning… he helped me," answered Harry, "Besides… even if he did, err… well, play that end of the field… I couldn't." He flicked his hand at the journal that had fallen on the floor, and summoned it. "I dreamed about Dumbledore's death again."

"Does that happen often, dear?" questioned Lily.

"Not as much now, but… before I came back, it was a regular one. That one, or Cedric's death… or Sirius' death… or Ron and Hermione… or—"

"We get your point," said Lily, sadly. Her son had suffered horrors many times over. It was a miracle he hadn't checked himself into St. Mungo's.

"What are you up to today?" questioned James, trying to steer the conversation into safer territory.

"I have a fair bit of reading to do." Harry gestured to the journal on his lap. "I 'borrowed' it from Dumbledore's library—I'll put it back once I'm done," said Harry, seeing his mother purse her lips. "Better to do it and ask forgiveness than it is to get permission(2)."

Harry settled back in the bed, conjuring a few extra pillows to prop himself up, then dove into the journal in front of him. It was more a refresher in most things, yet, the notes on the 'magic room', as the book called it, were the real reason for him borrowing it. More parchment was summoned once he had located the section. "Geminio," he spoke at the starting page, making a copy of it. It was known that the duplication spell usually didn't work all that well. Once again, however, Harry was by no means an ordinary wizard at this point, and a spell required more than just wand motion and pronunciation. It also required will and intent, both of which Harry focused very well. So, the page before him was a very close facsimile of the original.

A snort, and a sigh from beside him drew his attention to the other body that occupied the bed. Matt opened his eyes, blinking up at Harry—he was still on his stomach, face partially pressed into the pillow. He arched an eyebrow, then lifted his head off the pillow.

"Thanks… for looking out for me this morning," said Harry, "I know… I know I probably made you uncomfortable, but… if I was home… I would've had Cedric and—"

"It's all right," said Matt, holding up a hand, "Just… don't expect much from me."

"I doubt that… but mate, I know what boundaries mean, and I'm sorry I pushed on yours. It won't happen again," said Harry, solemnly.

"Although, prongslet, you could demand just about anything from him and he'd have to do it," James quipped up.

"Dad!" said Harry, glaring at his father, but the damage was done. Matt looked at Harry nervously. "Is that true?"

"Do you know what a life debt is?"

"No."

"When a wizard saves the life of another person, especially another witch or wizard, that person is owed a life debt. It means, as my prat of a father so elegantly put it, the witch or wizard owed the debt can ask just about anything of the person. I mean, as it stands, I owe Snape several life debts. I don't think he realizes that or not—and I'd do whatever he asks because of exactly that. Owing a life debt to someone is humbling, the best way to look at it… because that person thought the other's life was worth saving. Does that make sense?"

"I think so. Does that mean… I owe you?" Harry nodded his head slowly, but said, "It's not something I would ever collect on, unless it was… That sort of thing comes from old pureblood traditions, some of which I think should die a horrible death somewhere along the line. And I mean, to put it better… the only thing I ask of you in repayment, is your friendship, Matt."

Matt seemed to think on this for a few moments, taking in what he had just learned. All in all, he wasn't sure WHAT to think of that. Yet, clearly, Harry was not out to take advantage of him. There was nothing more to it. He would just have to trust the kid. He finally nodded, but asked, "So what would happen if things were reversed?"

"I would owe you, then. But normally, Muggles are unaware of such things," Harry explained. "I just hope we're never put in that kind of position. Not just because I don't want another life debt hanging over my head, but… the implications, you understand?" Matt nodded. "It's a grave thing, and it is so for both parties."

"Harry. Is this Dumbledore an old wizard?"

"Yes, going on a hundred and fifty or so," answered Harry.

"A dark clothed wizard killed him. At least that's what I dreamt just before I heard you screaming."

"Bloody hell. It woke you up too?"

"Yeah. What happened? Why was he killed?"

Harry only gave a nod, setting the journal aside, then made himself more comfortable, facing his new friend. It would require a lengthy explanation, after all. "The old wizard was—or should I say, 'is', the headmaster of my school. He also leads the fight against you-know-who. During what should have been my sixth year, Draco Malfoy—you saw him disarm Dumbledore—fixed a cabinet in a secret room in the school, letting Death Eaters in. The man who actually killed him is a teacher."

"A teacher?"

"Yeah. At the time… I didn't know exactly what was going on behind the scenes. You see, the teacher, Snape, never has got along with me. I always suspected he was playing both sides, only pretending to be helping Dumbledore, but truly only working for you-know-who. His killing of Dumbledore all but confirmed that in my mind, until I found out otherwise, much later. He in fact had killed Dumbledore on his orders, to keep his cover as a loyal Death Eater. I think that hurt almost as much… Dumbledore likes to keep things from me, see."

"Apparently."

"As for Snape, you'll meet him eventually. He's got access rights to the trunk, after all. One of the few people I trust implicitly. He knows about this particular memory, I think it even made HIM pause. Whether or not it'll prevent things from playing out that way later on… that remains to be seen, I guess. Anyway… not long after that, you-know-who took over the ministry of magic, and Snape became headmaster at Hogwarts."

"So Dumbledore sacrificed himself?"

"Yeah, he did," answered Harry, "It made it possible for Snape… like I said, to become Headmaster. He did the best he could to protect the students against the Death Eaters in the school, but what would have been my seventh year was… most unpleasant—I didn't attend, because well… I was on a mission for Dumbledore. My best friends and I, actually. And we had almost finished… there was one item I could never find," said Harry, seeming to be whispering mostly to himself, "Could never get close to Nagini, the Dark Lord's familiar. If only we could have… the war wouldn't have lasted so many years… there wouldn't have been so many deaths. Once he realized we were hunting Horcruxes, he kept Nagini close to his side… and that's when Snape sent me some pensieve memories—I'll show you what a pensieve is sometime… but I was able to view a bunch of his memories, it explained a lot as to why he is… well, why he acts the way he does, and more importantly, the part he played. It was both eye-opening, a relief, and devastating all at the same time."

"He told you about the Horcrux inside you," Matt assumed. Harry nodded. "Yeah, exactly. Or, more like, Dumbledore told him about it, and Snape included that memory in the batch he sent me."

"How did you get rid of it?"

"Well, Dumbledore said the Dark Lord himself had to do it, but I didn't believe it. I ended up using basilisk venom on the scar, and with Kreacher's help, he healed me using phoenix tears—phoenix tears can heal just about any injury. I had to 'die' to get rid of it—"

"Don't ever ask me to do that for you."

"No. That's something I will have to ask Kreacher to do again, probably in the near future. I need to ask Fawkes to donate a few of his tears."

"Did it hurt?"

"Well, if you can imagine a white-hot poker being shoved between your eyes—or where my scar is, more accurately, that's an apt description," answered Harry.

"So… all this shit's happened before?" questioned Matt. Of course the guy had caught on. Member of a Muggle rock band or not, he was VERY intelligent.

"Yeah, it has. Don't repeat any of this to the others. Let me explain it myself, okay?" Matt nodded, while Harry gestured at the bedroom door. Best not to be interrupted. "As you know, I'm from about twelve years into the past, never mind coming from a different world. But more than that, in my own world, I'm actually eleven years older than I am."

"How did that happen?"

"I swear the universe hates me," answered Harry, "All I wanted to do was die. Pass on, be with my parents and my friends. But the cosmos thought it would be a big prank to send me back in time eleven years. So now instead of celebrating my twenty-seventh birthday in a few weeks, I'll be fifteen."

"Sweetheart, this is a second chance for you. Don't you realize that?" Lily pointed out. But Harry only glared back, snarling, "I didn't ASK for it! I didn't WANT it! All I wanted, was peace of mind, and I won't find that here. It's like the universe said my best wasn't good enough, understand? Like those who died—died in vain!"

"But Harry, all those people… they're still alive now. You have a chance to prevent their deaths," James pointed out.

"So do any of your friends where you come from know?" questioned Matt, sitting up, and feeling in his back pocket for his cigarettes. "Shit." They were crushed.

"Here." Matt passed over the package, and Harry gestured with his hand. "Reparo."

"Right. Keep forgetting you can do that. Um, you don't mind?"

"No. I doubt a bit of cigarette smoke's ever gonna kill me. I have too many enemies for that," answered Harry, while Matt lit a smoke. He conjured up an ash tray, and continued, "Anyway, yeah, a few of those who are really close to me know. I told my boyfriend and my godfather. And Professor Snape—I wanted to gain his support sooner rather than later."

"Even though he—well… after…"

"But Matt… that hasn't happened yet this time. And telling him about it, I KNOW he won't ever agree to do something like that this time."

"If he had it to do over, Mr. Tyson, quite likely I would have married him," said Lily. That got a dark look from James and Harry, equally. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Harry gestured at it with his hand. "Come in." The door opened, and Jiro stood there, with Zachariah. "Um… well…"

"What do you need?" questioned Harry, while both Jiro and Zachariah looked at Harry and Matt curiously.

"We need to go to Baldwin Alley. I have to empty and close my Gringotts account," said Jiro.

"You guys be careful," said Harry.

"Don't worry, we will," Jiro smirked, tapping himself on the head with his wand. He began to change, starting with his hair, then his face, working down the body to finish with his feet. Instead of a black-haired guy with slightly Asian features, there stood a guy of about forty, with an unkempt beard, light hair, and beady black eyes. His body was slightly pudgy, and his clothes were equally as messy and unkempt.

Matt stared in shock at the transformation. "Holy shit!" That made Jiro smirk again. "It's a glamour," Harry supplied, "Right useful."

"What about him?" Matt gestured to Zachariah. Jiro only pointed his wand at him, and the same thing happened. Only this time, his mate looked like a much younger version of himself, dressed to look like a punk—not that that had changed a whole lot—Zachariah nailed down the punk look pretty well WITHOUT a glamour.

"My alter ego, Ben Hicks," said Jiro, "And my son, Donnie."

"Right. Like I said, be careful," said Harry. Jiro only gave a nod, grabbed Zachariah by the sleeve of his shirt, and they vanished with a soft POP.

"Still floors me how easy it is for you guys to just… look like whoever you want," said Matt, shaking his head. He took one last drag off his smoke, and crushed it into the ash tray Harry had conjured.

"Magic is a lot of fun. That's what I learned right off, when I first got my wand." Harry reached over to the bed side stand, and picked up his wand. "I still remember Ollivander's words. 'We can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.' I thought it was weird, but, never thought it would be true. All I ever wanted to be is just a normal kid."

"Doesn't sound like you've had a normal life. Holy fuck."

"Considering I have the most feared dark wizard in history out for my blood… no. But as I was saying, learning new spells and charms… I mean, challenging, but… the first time I was able to perform a transfiguration… it was an amazing feeling."

"But you don't need that much now, I guess," said Matt, gesturing to the wand.

"Most of the easier stuff, no. but anything that needs a lot of power, or it's really complicated, I definitely need my wand."

"Right," Matt nodded. He thought for a moment. "What are you doing today?"

"Probably gonna read this." Harry gestured to the journal that also lay on the bed side table. "You might want to borrow Jiro's computer and get started on those letters."

"I'm a mile ahead of you, mate," said Matt, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and standing up. "Gonna go see if the others are up."

Harry watched the dark-haired man leave. He was an eye-full, Harry had to admit. He smirked, retrieving the 'borrowed' journal, and flipped it open to the place he had left off. It would be too easy to seduce him, but it would also be very wrong. He'd made his boundaries pretty clear, and besides, Cedric would be crushed. 'Hands off', he thought, focusing on the words on the page. There were bigger fish to fry at the moment than chasing after the untouchable. He focused on the page…

_**THE DOPPELGANGER CHARM **__is a most useful charm, should one desire to be in more than one place at a time simultaneously, while avoiding the rather complicated and potentially dangerous effects of a time-turner. Reader beware, however, this charm can be just as dangerous, if used improperly._

_Successfully cast, the doppelganger charm will create a perfect functioning duplicate of your person, which will possess all of your memories and intelligence to the point of casting. They will function completely autonomous to the caster, until such a time as the charm is dispelled._

_An additional note must be made, that all memories from the doppelganger covering the time it existed, will at that time merge with the caster. Bear in mind, the longer the duplicate exists, the more discomfort will be experienced during the assimilation of memories._

_The incantation…_

Harry stopped, seeing Matt step back into the room, bringing one of his guitars, and a spiral notebook that had a pen jammed in the end. The book looked quite tattered from much use.

"Err…"

"It's an acoustic," answered Matt. "Figured you could use company."

"Oh… sure." If the guy was interested in hanging around, by all means, Harry wasn't going to deny that. He watched, as Matt again made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the bed. "Wait." He gestured with his hand in the middle of the bed, conjuring up a few more pillows. "That might make things a bit more comfortable."

"Thanks."

"What's everyone else up to?"

"Writing their letters," answered Matt, flicking a stray lock of hair out of his face, "They'll be a while. I didn't feel like being off alone right now, I guess."

"Oh. Gotcha," Harry nodded, understanding at once. They were all having difficulty coming to grips with what was happening. Both fell silent, as Matt dove into his notes, and Harry retreated to the journal again…

_The incantation for the Doppleganger charm is as follows: "Expecto Duplocorpus". The wand movements are as indicated in the following diagram:_ The following page was a full diagram showing the intricate wand pattern. This was where Harry was having the problem. It was truly an intricate pattern, including a thrust of the wand back at himself—or the subject of the copy. Harry smirked for a moment, wondering how his friend opposite him would react should he meet himself.

Although Matt had brought his guitar and notebook into the room with him, he was still far more interested in what the raven-haired wizard was up to, than his own work. He watched the teen as he went through the motions of something drawn in the book—likely practicing a wand motion. He worked at it for nearly a half-hour, then suddenly stood. The wand movement was abrupt and indeed intricate, and with a final jab back at himself, Harry commanded, "Expecto Duplocorpus!!"

Nothing happened.

"Bloody hell why can't I get that?" He muttered, throwing himself back on the bed.

"What's it supposed to do?" questioned Matt.

"Doppleganger charm," answered Harry, "It's supposed to make an exact duplicate of yourself. I'm SURE I've got the motion right, but—" Matt snatched the journal, looking at the page for a moment. "Fuck… looks complicated."

"It is."

"Show me again."

Harry sighed, but traced out the wand movements on the page.

"You missed something."

"No I didn't."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," Matt challenged, "Look there. Three spots, right?" He pointed to a spot on the page.

"Merlin's pants!" Harry swore, pulling the page closer, "Need to do something about my eyes." Sure enough, there were three small spots to the upper part of the wand movement diagram, indicating three jabbing motions. "I could kiss you!"

"Please don't." His tone was deadly serious, but Harry could see amusement in the guy's light blue eyes.

It was back to practicing for another twenty minutes, this time with the additional motion to it. The thing was, all magic was based on intent as much as wand movements and annunciation. So why wasn't it working? He stood up to try it again. "Expectro duplocorpus!"

A shadowy figure began to form about three feet from Harry. It was indeed an exact clone of himself, right down to the shape and condition of what he was wearing. However, it did not solidify, but fizzled away to nothing.

"That was awesome!"

"No, it was a failure," Harry snorted, again throwing himself on the bed, "Why the FUCK can't I get that to work?!"

"Well, Prongslet, you're in a better place than you were before. At least something happened, did it not?"

"Thanks for the encouragement, dad, but I should be able to DO this shit! It's still like I'm doing something wrong!"

By the time supper was called, Harry had not been able to get any further. Most of the other things in the journal he was able to do quite well. This was the only spell that truly stumped him. Even the first time around, he'd not been able to do it—although Matt had provided at least a partial solution. It DID help if the wand motion was correct, after all. Yet, it was like there was still something missing.

The rest of the evening was spent much like the afternoon, except that Matt did not return to Harry's room—although he did leave his guitar and notebook behind. Harry finally fell asleep as it closed on 2 am, not even having changed into his pyjamas.

Unfortunately, sleep did not bring peace. Harry once again found himself in the graveyard, the high, cold voice calling in a whisper, "Kill the spare."

"Avada kedavra!" cried Wormtail to the night, and Harry spun to see the killing curse strike. But it was not Cedric standing in the path of the green bolt of magic… it was Matt.

* * *

_Once again, this chapter has gotten a bit of an overhaul to reflect the change of characters and so on. I have to give a nod to __**GryffRavHuffSlythendor, **__whose story "Harry Potter and Merlin's Gifts" uses the idea of Harry 'cloning' himself. One comment I have to make about that one, however, the author never truly explains how Harry manages to do it. This comes across as something EXTREMELY difficult, something he's not gonna get on the first go. So yes, he's gonna work at it for a while before he truly gets it._

_This chapter's title pays homage to a story I once read a while back, called "Harry Potter and the Nightmares of Futures Past", an amazing 'redo' fiction by __**Viridian**__, look it up on Fanfiction . net. Beware, as far as I know, it's not completed, but what was posted so far was awesome. It's Harry/Ginny, but that's all right, being the only canon het-pairing I support for Harry. Some people say it was a bit fast, and in some ways I do agree, but this is neither here nor there. I mean, we do have the Bill/Fleur fiasco… *groans* hate that pairing._

_I should also note, Harry's dreams—or nightmares are going to play a part in this story. The things he's seen, realize, ten or more years of horrors. It's bound to have a terrible effect. Post-traumatic stress disorder, anyone?_

_(1) This is 99 percent verbatim from the movie-verse HBP, other than it being told completely from Harry's perspective. I debated about using the book-verse, but that would have resulted in 10 pages or so, rehashing that particular scene, something I wished to avoid._

_(2) As quoted by USN Rear Adm. Grace Hopper, pioneer in the computer field (1906 – 1992)_


	10. The Dark Pursuit

_CAUTION: Coarse language._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER IX-  
THE DARK PURSUIT**

**or, Matt experiences more horrors from Voldemort**

* * *

Harry awoke to a dimly-lit room, the waxing light of day starting to make its presence felt through the fake window. Once again he had slept very poorly, and a soft grunt from beside him let Harry know that for the second night in a row, he was not alone. 'Note to self,' thought Harry, as his eyes adjusted to the light, 'Silencing charms on the door from here on out.' Matt had again slept in Harry's bed. So what had it been this time? Right, the 'grave yard' scene, with an ugly substitution. Had Matt seen it? He'd already shared two of Harry's nasty nightmares, so it wouldn't surprise him. He slowly sat up, and gesturing with his hand, lit the lamps.

"You were screaming again this morning," said Lily, from her portrait. Harry only nodded, gesturing to Matt's sleeping form. "I know. I'll use silencing charms on the door from now on."

"But if you do that, Prongslet, you'll be sleeping alone," James smirked from his side of the portrait.

"Dad!" Harry tossed one of his socks at the portrait. Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door. "Harry!!!"

"What? Come in," Harry answered. The door flew open and Jiro rushed in bringing the map. "I… the map… just here." He dropped the map on Harry's lap. Matt had been startled awake by the loud noise, and was trying to gain his bearings.

"Death Eaters," Harry breathed, seeing the labels on the map—it had been charmed to flag Death Eaters by the dark mark, and display one beside their name. There were eight of them, and they were closing in on their location, quickly.

"Here," said Harry, tossing a pillow at Jiro, "Make us a port key. I don't care where." Jiro only nodded, touching the pillow with his wand. "Portus. I'm able to move the trunk, right?"

"You should."

"Great. Be right back, then." He disapparated with a soft POP. Harry turned his attention back to the map, and was just in time to watch the map go completely haywire for several moments. Harry had to suppress a snicker as the map seemed to be completely disoriented for a few seconds.

"What's wrong with it?" questioned Matt.

"Port key. The map's trying to draw the surroundings, but we're moving so fast it can't keep up with it—there…" said Harry, as the map was finally able to sort out the surroundings. It looked like another city this time, but no place Harry was familiar with.

"This thing's like a GPS unit."

"A what?"

"A GPS unit… oh right, you've never heard of them," said Matt, "I guess it's the non-magical version of your map. Nowhere near as advanced as this is—" he gestured at the map, "—but pretty useful anyway."

"Oh. My best friend's father would find that fascinating, I think." Just then, Jiro stepped into the room. "They're probably tracking us. If they hit our house, no doubt they'll be looking into other places we frequent. Good thing I don't have anyone important."

"Well good for you, Einstein!" Matt hissed, narrowing his eyes, "Holy fuck!"

"Guys."

"Sorry, I… I didn't mean it that way."

"Mate, you really need to think before you open your mouth," said Harry, shaking his head, "These guys all have family… and there's just no way we could ever protect everyone." The teen's frustration was not lost on Matt nor Jiro.

"So where are we now?" questioned Matt, casting another dark look at Jiro.

"We're now in the baggage car of a train destined for Vancouver," answered Jiro, "Or, at least, the train leaves in about fifteen minutes."

"Did you guys get your letters finished?" questioned Harry.

"Yeah," answered Matt, nodding.

"We better get those in the mail too."

"I'll bug the others for theirs." Matt got up and left the room.

"He slept with you again?" questioned Jiro.

"Well… not with, so much, but… I don't want to get into it, okay?"

"Hey, I'm not gonna pry. He likes you, whether he wants to admit it or not."

"Doubt he likes me THAT way. Never mind the fact I already have a boyfriend. He'd likely castrate me if I even harboured THOUGHTS about… well…"

"Right," Jiro smiled, "Exactly what Zack would do. Anyway… you still don't know what kind of music they play, do you?"

"No, not really."

"I think Zack's actually got a few of their tracks on his computer."

"Not exactly one of my priorities right now though," answered Harry, gesturing at the messy bed with his hand, causing it to make itself. "Today, I'll help you guys set up a flat for yourselves. That's if you have something for me to work from. And I could use your help."

"Sure."

The next order of business, however, was to get the letters into the mail. Harry gestured at each one with his hand, muttering an incantation, dropping them onto the drawing table.

"What are you doing to them?" questioned Justin, suspiciously. He had come out to the common room looking for Matt.

"Applying secrecy charms and Confundus charms," answered Harry, "The Confundus charm will make the post office deliver it without questioning why there's no stamp on it… all right, that's it. Jiro. If you'll do the honours."

"Yep." He snatched up the letters, and disapparated with a light POP.

"Still fucking weird, seeing him do that," said Justin, shaking his head.

"It'll get weirder than that," said Harry, with a grin, "As far as the magic world, you've not seen anything yet."

Once Jiro returned to the trunk, Harry got to work setting up their flat. He decided to put their unit under the main floor, and so an entrance hall was built, where the ladder was placed, along with a staircase leading down. From there, it would open into a large combined common room and kitchen, with an island counter. Two rooms went off of it, one being a study with a wide opening, while the other was a bedroom. Finally, a bathroom was set off the common room beside the entry hall.

By supper time, Harry had only managed to complete the common room, even with Jiro's help. Matt had once again decided to watch, along with Owen, this time. He hadn't shown his face all that much the past couple of days, choosing to spend most of his time in his room. Come to think of it, the others were making themselves scarce as well, and it did make sense. They were losing everything, everyone they knew, and were powerless to do anything about it. Death Eaters showing up at Jiro's house drove home the point: it was dangerous for them in this world. Voldemort would hunt high and low, and being Muggles, they wouldn't stand a chance.

Once supper was over, Harry turned his attention to the roughed in room that would become the study. It ran behind the kitchen, and was accessed by the corridor that led to the bedrooms. Harry's room in fact was directly across from it.

While he worked, his mind fell back on the failed Doppelganger charm. The stuff he was doing here and now could be just as complicated, and yet, he could practically do it blindfolded! It was one of the great mysteries of magic. How some things could come to him instantly, while others he had to fight tooth and nail to achieve.

He laid out the study very much like a small section of the library at Hogwarts. Two large work tables took up the centre, with a number of shelves toward the back of the room. They would eventually be filled with books and journals—after all, there were a ton of books in the family vault at Gringotts.

At the front of the room, there was another fireplace which he would hook up to the floo once they got back into his own world. It was sunk into a sort of pit, with three couches arranged in front of it, with a coffee table between them.

The room itself was two storeys high, and had large, floor to ceiling windows at the back of it—fake of course, but still let in volumes of light. The room was lit with antique gas lamps, much like the rest of the flat, although the 'gas' was an endless supply, conjured as needed. It was one of those charms so complicated, yet one he could do in his sleep.

His activities were interrupted as Fawkes flamed in and landed on one of the chairs at the work tables.

"Hello Fawkes. Oh, you brought mail, did you? Cedric misses me, does he?" Harry grinned, relieving Fawkes of his letters. He quickly conjured up a perch, and the bird happily took to it, looking at Harry expectantly.

The first was another letter from Sirius.

_Harry,_

_What's going on, pup? It's been two weeks since we've heard from you and everyone's starting to get a little bent. We finally convinced Dumbledore to let us borrow Fawkes, since he seems to know where you are._

_Speaking of Dumbledore, he's been working diligently to get me a hearing in front of the Wizengamot, so just perhaps, I may actually get my name cleared, and be a proper godfather to you._

_I do hope you are still okay, let us know how you're doing._

_Love,_

_Sirius._

Well, that was a little strange! He'd only spoke with them the other day, hadn't he? To miss TWO WEEKS that way? That was just ridiculous. On to the next letter, then. As expected, this one was from Cedric.

_Harry,_

_Tell me you are okay. I know Sirius probably already said something along the same line, but we're all worried! I'm beyond worried. I almost demanded Fawkes bring me to you, but… I don't know what's happening there. Dumbledore didn't think it would be safe, and I guess I have to agree._

_However, you can't just forget about us, Harry. I'm your love, your BOYFRIEND! _(Harry could see the writing was very jagged and uneven, very uncharacteristic for Cedric)

_Write back to us, and put everyone at ease, okay?_

_Love, your very WORRIED mate,_

_Cedri_c

Harry turned to Fawkes. "If it happens again, bring them here, okay?" The bird seemed to blink and nod. "In the meantime, I'll send back a note so they know I'm all right."

"Harry—Holy shit!" said Jiro, spotting the bird.

"This is Fawkes," Harry introduced.

"Dumbledore's phoenix," said Jiro, "I've never seen him before."

"He's been helping me on occasion as of late… and he did save my life in second year. Dumbledore thinks I share a strong bond with him."

"Harry… oh, hey Fawkes," said Matt, stepping into the room. The bird again shifted on his perch, and called out a happy musical note in greeting.

"Hey, how come 'I' didn't get that greeting?" questioned Jiro.

"Maybe he knows you're a prick," answered Matt, sarcastically, plopping into a seat at the work tables. Jiro glared at the guy, and choosing not to retort, said, "Just wanted to say thanks for… for your help this afternoon with our flat."

"We'll finish it tomorrow."

"So if Fawkes is here… has he deserted Dumbledore?"

"NO! Why would you think that?" questioned Harry, rather shocked. The phoenix ruffled his feathers, looking at Jiro strangely, as if to say, 'Why would I do a thing like that?'

"Well, if he's spending time around someone other than the one he's bonded with… that can't be a good sign," Jiro pointed out.

"And that would be the stupidest answer I've ever heard," Harry retorted, "Merlin, that's just well… wow. I know things are different in your world… but in mine, Dumbledore is a great man. He definitely has an agenda, I know that, but… at the same time, his intentions are only for the best. I see him as a strong ally, someone needed just as much as I am."

"Yeah, after he sacrifices everyone around you for the 'greater good'… You know he was in cohorts with Grindelwald, don't you?"

"Who's Grindelwald?" questioned Matt, pulling out a smoke. Harry once again conjured up an ashtray and slid it across the table.

"The dark wizard BEFORE you-know-who," answered Jiro, "He and Dumbledore were best friends—although it was rumoured Dumbledore wanted it to be more than that."

"Jesus Christ, is EVERYONE in the magic world gay or something?" questioned Matt, who then took a long drag off his smoke. Harry burst out laughing, and Jiro couldn't hide the smirk from his face. Harry knew he was tying to think of a smart comment. "Right. Well, no. I mean, we have to create new witches and wizards right?" That got another smirk from Jiro.

"Don't tell me guys can get pregnant." Harry again burst out laughing, and this time Jiro joined him.

"Oh my God, that's completely bonkers," Jiro finally managed, "Dude, we might be magical, but well… we're not THAT magical." He took a few more moments to collect himself, then said, "So where was I… right… Grindelwald and Dumbledore. You know Dumbledore gave Grindelwald some of the ideas about conquering Muggles, right?"

"Yeah, Rita Skeeter's WONDERFUL biography laid it out clear as mud," Harry retorted, "You're not telling me anything new."

"He's dangerous, Harry. think about it… his own slogan, 'For the Greater Good' ended up over the gates at Nurmengard."

"Where was that?" Matt asked.

"Another Wizarding prison. Grindelwald is being kept there now—at least in my world," Harry explained, "Still. Dumbledore is an old man. He made a few stupid mistakes in his life… much as I already have. Show me one person in this world that's perfect. I'd PAY you to do that." Just then, Zachariah walked in, seeming to be looking for someone. "Wondered where you got to," he said, sliding up to Jiro, "Come to bed, it's late."

"Tempus," said Harry, gesturing with an index finger. '11:30 p' wafted from the tip. "Shit, so it is. I've still got letters to write."

"We'll leave you to it, then," said Jiro. Without another word, he grabbed Zachariah, and they popped away.

"What did you need?" Harry gestured at Matt.

"Wondered what you were doing."

"Oh. Just finishing the study here. Even if I'm here in your world, I still have stuff to do."

"Makes sense."

Harry kept both letters relatively short, and secured both to one of Fawkes' legs. "All right. Take those to Sirius and Cedric. And remember what I said." The bird only nodded, then opened his wings and vanished in a burst of golden flames.

"Your dream last night… is that how Cedric died?"

"Yeah. But it wasn't Cedric this time, you and I both know that," said Harry, standing, "It's a revolving door of everyone I ever cared about, all put in that scene at one point. Fate's way of torturing me, I guess."

"You woke up screaming and I checked on you."

"Thanks… again. I'm sorry you have to live my nightmares. Don't worry about it, I'll be all right. I'll make sure you won't be disturbed by my outbursts in the middle of the night from now on."

"How can you do that?"

"Silencing charms."

"Ain't gonna stop ME from experiencing them, though," Matt huffed. Understandably, the dreams were disturbing him just as much.

"I'll get you a dreamless sleep potion… better not to use them unless you absolutely have to though, they're highly addictive."

Stopping at his door, he made several gestures at it. 'No more waking up the rest of the flat', he thought bitterly to himself. It was one of those things he truly wished he could get rid of… but it was impossible. Occlumency only helped one to manage and protect one's thoughts… not get rid of them. Self-obliviation was dangerous at best—Lockhart was a VERY good example of that.

"_The pain will end if you just tell me what I need to know, Miss Spencer," spoke a cold, high, voice. The object of his attention lay on the floor, writhing, her screams virtually drowning out the voice. It abruptly ended, and the woman lay there, heaving for several seconds. "You just have to answer my question. Where is Matthew __Tyson__?"_

"_I… I don't know! Why, what—"_

"_Crucio." The woman screamed yet again, as she fell under the unforgivable. "I have little patience for filthy Muggles. Yet, there is one I currently desire above all others. I will find him. Believe me when I say, I will find him." He held the curse for several minutes, and finally ended it. This time the woman stared up with a blank expression on her face, unresponsive._

"_Most unfortunate. Avada Kedavra." The scene was filled with a bright green flash._

Harry's eyes snapped open to the light of early morning, feeling his scar aching. He had witnessed Voldemort torturing people before, so it was nothing new. This was slightly different though. What time was it—SMASH! Something slammed into the other side of the wall—Matt's room, Harry realized. He didn't bother to dress, and wasted little time going out into the corridor and knocking on Matt's door.

"Hey… what was that?" Harry turned to find Owen standing in the doorway to his room, looking concerned, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"I'll take care of it," answered Harry, knocking again, "You won't understand."

"He was my friend long before he met you," Owen snapped.

"Matt? It's Harry. Are you all right?" No answer.

"Let me." Owen knocked. "Matt… what's going on?" Still no response. Harry didn't bother calling again, but simply threw open the door.

Matt was sitting on his bed, his face in his hands. He was shaking all over, sweat glistening on his tanned skin. Most certainly, he had just witnessed the same nightmare. He looked up at the intruders, his face a mask of anger and hurt. Harry could see beyond the mask, however, and behind it lay a shattered spirit. Whoever it was, she was important to him. Sister? Girlfriend? Most likely his girlfriend.

Harry said nothing, but took a seat beside him. Owen on the other hand, persisted, asking, "What happened?"

"Don't want to talk about it," was Matt's shaky, but curt answer. Owen only nodded, but said, "I'm here if you need to talk, so are the other guys." He gave a questioning look at Harry.

"Kreacher," Harry called. It took several moments, but the old elf popped into the room. It looked like he had been woken up. "Master Harry call for Kreacher?" he croaked.

"Sorry to wake you, but I need a claming draught from my stores."

"Kreacher is fetching one right away," and the elf vanished with a pop.

"I know how it feels," said Harry, daring to put an arm around the older man's shoulder. Matt flinched, but did not protest. "He's taken every single person I've ever cared about from me. I know I will lose people this time, too. It's just the way he is."

"But… why?" His voice was still uneven.

"He's evil… just the way he—"

"Why am I seeing this shit? Why do I keep seeing your fucked up dreams, Harry? I can't HANDLE that!"

"I don't know the entire answer to that… but you have some of my blood now. We share a bond, something like what I share with you-know-who." Just then, Kreacher appeared, bringing a calming draught. Matt consumed it without hesitation. It was either that, or he was going to explode again. "Thank you." The elf only bowed low, and popped away. Harry banished the empty vial, then said, "You'll be sleeping in my room from now on." That got a strange look from Owen, and a scowl from Matt. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Err… and neither did 'I' when you slept in my bed two nights in a row. It's either that or I stun you every night."

"So he had a nightmare?" questioned Owen.

"Guys… everything all right?" questioned Jiro, joining Owen at the door.

"Christie… he murdered Christie," said Matt, quietly. He had stopped shaking, the potion having the desired effect. Harry gestured with his index finger, muttering under his breath. 'Cheering charm should help', he thought. Jiro left, seeing everything was well in hand. He knew there was no point in sticking around.

"What did you do?"

"Cheering charm," answered Harry, "Feel a bit better?" Matt nodded.

"If you need anything… come knock," said Owen, "I'm going back to bed." By the sound of his voice, he wasn't happy about the situation. Of course, then again, none of them were. Harry could easily pick up the irritation in the forefront of the guy's mind, he didn't have to dig far.

Matt, on the other hand, was a scramble of nerves and emotions, even after the calming draught AND a cheering charm. Of course, he had just lost someone very close to him. By the looks of it things weren't all that hot between them at present, but Harry knew that meant nothing really. To have an intimate relationship with someone changes things forever, after all. To lose that person is a massive blow, no matter how close or distant they are at the time.(1)

"C'mon, let's go back to my room," Harry decided, "You can come make fun of me trying to learn that charm."

"Sure." It wasn't enthusiastic, but it was an answer nonetheless. "Let me get dressed."

"Right. If I don't see you in five minutes—" Matt had already stood, and was sliding into a pair of long shorts. "After you…"

Harry had just made himself comfortable on the bed, the journal again open on his lap. Matt had said nothing but had occupied the opposite side of the four-poster, and had pulled out his notebook—Harry couldn't see how one would want to write in such a terrible mood. Suddenly, there was a loud THUD, and the entire place shook.

"Accio map," said Harry, holding out a hand—it had been placed back out on the drawing table. Moments later said object fluttered into Harry's hand. "Merlin's balls!" he swore. Nearly twenty Death Eaters were swarming around the trunk, including one Tom M. Riddle.

There was no chance to copy what he had done last time. Since he hadn't seen outside the trunk when Jiro had moved it, he couldn't apparate out there.

"Harry?! What's going on?" Jiro appeared in the doorway, appearing confused.

"Fawkes," Harry spoke, praying to everything holy the bird would hear. If not, they were as good as dead. Another loud BANG rang through the trunk, and it again shook, this time a little stronger. Matt had looked over, and he already knew what was going on. "We're dead," he said, gesturing weakly at the map. Another loud BANG. Suddenly, with a flash of golden flames, Dumbledore's familiar appeared, and lit over to Harry, looking at him as if to say, 'What can I do?'

"Fawkes. Can you collect the trunk?" Harry gestured at the map. "Take us home."

Voldemort was quite pleased with himself, and to a much lesser extent, his loyal followers. They had done very well tracking down the boy-who-lived-from-another-dimension and that filthy Muggle that dared attack him. They had located the train as it left Banff heading westbound, and stormed aboard, searching it from end to end. They had brought six Dementors along, and they were allowed to feast on the unsuspecting passengers on the train.

They at last stormed into the second baggage car, and the Dark Lord wasted no time, blasting through the hundreds of pieces of luggage, uncovering the magical trunk he had encountered a few days before. However, before he and his Death Eaters could get too many hits on it, a brilliant red phoenix burst into being with a blaze of golden flames, snagged the trunk, and vanished the same way he appeared. Somehow, the Dark Lord knew at once his hunt was over. Wherever the phoenix was going with the trunk, it was somewhere far beyond his reach.

* * *

_(1) My grandmother and grandfather died less than twenty-four hours apart, even though they had been divorced for a number of years. On top of that, when they passed away, my grandfather lived in Thunder Bay, Ontario, while my grandmother lived in New Brunswick, something like 1,800 miles apart. I rest my case._


	11. United and Severed

_WARNING: Violence, coarse language._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER X-  
UNITED AND SEVERED**

**Or, a war almost erupts in the trunk**

**

* * *

**Harry was relieved to see the map redraw itself absent of his nemesis. Unfortunately, that was not quite the end of the problems, as he noted three other figures on the map: his 'loving' family. 'Better then than Voldemort,' he thought, bitterly.

"It's done, then. We're… in your world," said Matt, his voice barely above a whisper. Harry only nodded. "I know… you guys wanted more time, but—"

"We had no choice," said Jiro, "You-know-who would have killed us… probably without realizing it."

"Voldemort would have known-"

"Harry-"

"Here, we can say it and I make damned sure of it. My second best friend puts it best, Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"Pretty smart," Matt agreed.

"Yep, smartest witch in our year."

"Well… at least he won't be having any more nightmares," said Jiro with a shrug.

Matt practically flew off the bed, tackling the guy and knocking him to the floor. By the time it truly registered with Harry what was happening, Matt was pummelling the guy.

"STUPEFY!" Matt fell limp from the strong stunning hex. Jiro seized the opportunity, and smashed him in the face, then threw him roughly aside.

"Jiro…" But he wasn't having any of it. It was twice now (even though Jiro had caused both episodes)—he was going to have his revenge.

"What the—" Owen had come in, having heard the noise from only seconds earlier. He saw red, seeing Jiro attacking one of his best friends.

"Impedimenta!" Harry snapped, thrusting a hand at Owen, then thrust a hand at the door, slamming it closed. Another snap of the hand, and Jiro found himself bound from the neck down in heavy cords, shoved roughly backward by several feet. "I fucking warned you, moron." He turned to Owen, saying, "Twitch an inch the wrong way and you'll be bound up tight as he is." He cancelled the hex.

"What did you do to him?" Owen questioned, scrambling over, and kneeling beside Matt.

"He only reacted," said Harry, kneeling beside him. "Bloody moron, I warned Jiro what would happen." Luckily the damage wasn't too bad—a busted nose and a split lip. "Kreacher."

"Yes master Harry," said the elf, as he appeared.

"Another pain-relieving draught from my stores, please."

"Right away, master Harry." The elf pattered across the room to the storage cabinet, opened it, and selected one of the many vials. Closing it up, he returned to where they were gathered.

"Thank you, Kreacher." The elf bowed, and popped away. Harry then cancelled the stunning hex. Matt hissed as the pain immediately registered, his eyes narrowing to almost slits, icy cold fire blazing behind them.

"I'm gonna fix your nose. Brace yourself, it's gonna hurt," Harry warned.

"Jub do ib," Matt managed, wincing with the pain that came with a broken nose, blood splattering as he spoke the few words. Harry pointed an index finger at his nose. "Episkey." There was a sickening squelch as bone and cartilage were magically mended, causing Matt to let out an anguished cry(1), and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"S-sorry."

"No… it's fine."

"Hold still… I'll fix your mouth. Your teeth okay?"

"Yeah." Harry again pressed an index finger against the split lip. "Episkey." Again, it hurt, but not nearly as much as the nose, as the skin knit itself back together again.

"Evansco," spoke Harry, gesturing again at his face in general, banishing the blood. "Here. It'll minimize the pain." He passed Matt the pain-relieving potion.

"Thanks."

"Anywhere else hurt?"

"No… he just got me in the face," answered Matt. His eyes still blazed with cold hatred. No doubt, Jiro had just made himself an enemy or four. Matt would waste no time sharing this latest altercation with his friends and band mates.

"Here." Harry offered a hand, and Matt took it, to be helped back to his feet.

"What about HIM?"

"That's our next bit of business. Really didn't need this dragon shit right now." Harry gestured at Jiro, releasing part of the binding.

"This is how it's gonna be, Mr. Kane. You have a choice. Either, I have you written up on charges of assaulting a Muggle—I'm sure you know the penalties, right? Or, you will pay Mr. Tyson for damages. I should think five thousand Galleons should be a nice round number."

"But…"

"Those are your choices."

"Or we take a pound of flesh out of 'ya," said Owen, coldly. Right, there was a fourth party here. Jiro glared at the others.

"Mate, I warned you once already, and this is MY home before anyone else's. I was hoping to have your help, but… Merlin's balls can't you think before you open your mouth?"

"I'll pay your supposed fine," Jiro ground out.

"Good."

"And Jiro. Let's get one thing straight. I hate your fucking guts." Matt's voice was low and cold. He was BEYOND angry.

"Ditto," Owen agreed. He, too was furious. In his books, an attack against one of them was an attack against ALL of them.

"Trust me, the feeling's mutual."

"NO. you don't have that right, moron," Harry crackled, "YOU made that bed, not Matt. So let's lay down a few boundaries. You will be finishing the apartment yourself, after which, you will not be up here except to use the floo. If this shit happens again, I will throw you and your shit out of here faster than you can say Quidditch, and I WILL file a report with the Auror's office regarding that incident AND this one. Is that crystal clear?"

"…"

"It's not a rhetorical question, Kane."

"Crystal clear," Jiro ground out.

"Great." Harry removed the body bind. "And one more thing." Harry again thrust a hand at the guy, muttering an incantation. "You are not to be within twenty feet of Matthew Tyson from this point forward, unless invited by him, so mote it be." A dark red thread of magic arced between Matt and Jiro.

"What do I do?" questioned Matt.

"Say, 'so mote it be'."

"So mote it be!" said Matt, icily. The thread of magic buried itself into his chest, then did the same to Jiro, at once making him feel VERY uncomfortable, as he was inside the twenty foot circle. He fled the room.

"Thanks," said Matt.

"I know you tried not to let him get to you, but… I can see that would never work. Merlin's pants I can't believe that happened. You're truly okay?"

"In which way, mental or physical?"

"Right."

"They can't stay here," said Owen, "The others will be pissed when they find out."

"You guys need to just lay off them for now, okay. Promise me that. Let me handle this, it's my home."

"I won't keep secrets from the others," said Matt, "We share everything."

"Just make sure they don't cause further trouble. This has been dealt with, right?"

"This time. If it happens again, I mean it, we'll beat him within an inch of his life," Owen vowed.

"No, next time he'll just be bounced out of here on his arse, sod his fancy gadgetry." Harry lay back down on the bed and blew out a long breath. "Y'know, I've met a good number of Canadians, both Muggle and magical alike. They tend to be good people. Jiro's really thrown me for a loop here."

"Second that," said Owen.

"Third there," added Matt, as he took the seat beside the bed.

"Y'know, if you guys are gonna make it a habit of gathering in my room, I guess I'm gonna have to add some furniture."

"Hey, you told me to," Matt pointed out. A hint of a smile tried to form on his lips as he said it, however.

"Guess I did." He gestured at the floor, conjuring up another comfortable arm chair. "Owen…"

"Thanks, mate." He took the offered seat. "So… how do you just… well… make shit out of thin air?"

"You just said it. What's air?" Harry questioned, glad for the distraction. One could practically taste the tension in the room.

"Hydrogen and oxygen."

"So it's not nothing, then, is it?" Harry explained, "It all comes back to transfiguration, changing one thing into another." He slid his wand out of his pants pocket, and gestured at one of the many pillows that now adorned the bed, muttering an incantation. It suddenly changed into a fluffy white kitten, who cuddled up to the teen, mewing happily. He smirked at the goldfish imitation he was getting from Matt and Owen. "One of the most advanced types of transfiguration possible." He gestured again with his wand, restoring the pillow to its original form.

"Can you do that to people?" questioned Matt. That got a laugh from Harry. "Yeah, as one of my classmates found out last year. Professor McGonagall wasn't too impressed about it, but we all got a good laugh out of it. He was turned into a ferret for a minute or so."

"Harry… you've shown us a ton of your world. It's only fair we show you ours," said Owen, "That's if we could somehow get our equipment to work here."

"It'll mean bugging Jiro—" that got a dark look from both Owen and Matt, "—but I'll work something out."

"Would be good to actually jam a bit as well. That's our fun too."

"Well, I'd like to hear you guys. The last band I saw was last year at school."

"Magical band I would guess," Matt assumed. Harry nodded.

"So what would be different?" questioned Owen.

"Well, they sing about magical things and stuff happening in the magical world, that's all," answered Harry.

Their discussion continued until lunch time, after which, Harry finally ventured outside the trunk again. Curiosity getting the better of him, Matt followed.

"You slept here?"

"Once I got my Hogwarts letter, yeah. The room's actually supposed to be much smaller than this, but I applied a few charms much like I did in the trunk," Harry explained. It was then Matt spotted Hedwig, resting on the large perch in the corner beside the window. "Is that yours?"

"Yeah. This is Hedwig. Hi, girl." He stroked the bird's feathers, and she started, puffing out her feathers. She glared at the boy, as if to say, 'Where have you been?!'

"This is Matt, a new, good friend of mine." The bird blinked once at the newcomer.

"She's awesome."

"My first magical friend bought her for me just before I started school." He thought for a moment. "Don't come out here without me. My uncle might not like that."

"Yeah, I sure wouldn't like it either if the tables were reversed."

"Let's get back inside. I have a floo call to make."

"A what?"

"You'll see."

Moments later, Harry was kneeling in front of the crackling grate, with Matt standing just behind. He took a pinch of floo powder from the container hanging at the side, tossed it into the fire, then called out, "Fire call the Diggory Residence!" and stuck his head into the green flames.

Looking up from the grate, he spotted Mrs. Diggory puttering around the kitchen. She stopped, seeing Harry's face in the fire. "Mr. Potter! Oh dear, Cedric's been in a right state! Are you back?"

"Yeah, I'm back. Could you get Cedric to come see me? Have him floo home first."

"All right, I'll pass on the message."

"Thank you!" Harry pulled his head back out of the fire.

"Okay, that had to be the most bizarre thing I've ever seen," Matt declared, shaking his head. Harry let out a chuckle, and said, "You haven't seen anything yet."

Sure enough, about a half minute later, the flames in the grate roared to life, and someone stepped out of them, dusting the ashes off his clothes. He was good looking with a chiselled face, and soft, grey eyes that took in everyone in the room. He had short, brown hair, and stood easily a head above Harry.

"Cedric!" Harry grinned, swamping the taller boy in a tight hug.

"Just a heads up, Sirius is on his way as well, you might want to add him to the trunk access list."

"Right!" he thrust his hand at the fireplace. "Addendum, Sirius Black." The fireplace flashed green for a moment, and it was a good thing he had. An instant later, the flames roared green yet again, and out stepped a man taller yet again. He had an aristocratic appearance about him, although it appeared to be somewhat tarnished, his skin slightly waxen. He had startlingly blue eyes that contrasted Harry's green ones, and a large mop of shoulder-length curly brown hair. Harry broke away from Cedric, and was again enveloped in a tight hug. "Harry! Thank Merlin you're all right. We were all going half spare," said the man. Harry grinned and they separated, at which Harry said, "Cedric, Sirius, this is Matt. Matt, this is my boyfriend, Cedric, and my godfather, Sirius."

"Pleasure," said Matt, shaking their hands. "I'll get the others, they'll probably want to meet you as well."

"What others?" questioned Cedric, as Matt headed to the bedrooms.

"He's a member of a Muggle rock band. I accidentally crashed into their motor coach when I… err… landed," Harry explained, "There's a bunch of stuff I have to explain, let's go into the study."

"Since when do you have… oh, right," said Sirius. Harry smirked as he led them down the same corridor Matt had just disappeared into, down the far end, and into said study.

"You've done all this yourself?" Cedric was impressed.

"I still need to configure the fireplace, and the bookshelves are a little bare, but."

"An amazing job, Harry," Cedric praised. Just then, Matt stepped into the room, followed by his friends and band mates. Jiro and Zachariah followed moments after. Zachariah was clearly not happy.

"Matt… I'll need you to 'invite' Jiro into your twenty foot range for now," said Harry, taking a seat at one of the tables. He nodded, taking the seat beside Harry. Cedric occupied the seat on the other side, while others filled in around. Harry thought for a moment, then called, "Kreacher?"

"Yes, master Harry?" the elf croaked out, appearing with a slight pop. Sirius was astounded at the change that had taken place in his house elf. He now wore a spotless tea towel, his ears were neatly clipped, the hair in each a snowy-white. It was as if the elf had de-aged by years.

"Could you bring us some refreshments… perhaps some butter beer this time."

"Right away, master Harry!" Kreacher vanished with a light POP.

"You've had the Midas touch with him, I'd say, Harry," said Sirius.

"He's been kept quite busy here, with seven of us around, but he likes it." Kreacher was back with another pop, and he placed a large platter of bottles at the centre of the table. He also produced a tea service.

"Thank you, Kreacher." The elf bowed, and popped away again.

"He's behaving himself?" questioned Sirius.

"I've told him there are certain things he can't say, that's it. I'm kind to him, and he reciprocates that," Harry explained, grabbing a bottle of butter beer from the plate at the centre of the table. "Either way. What date are we here?"

"July 24th," answered Cedric, "Why didn't you keep writing, keep us updated?"

"Because to me, I'd only just written to you. I don't know how that's possible, but it's like this universe isn't running at the same speed as the one where these guys came from."

"Very odd," Sirius agreed, "So tell us what happened. What did you do for the three or so days you were gone?"

Harry took his time, and gave a fairly detailed account of his first venture into another universe. Matt and his band-mates, and Jiro and his partner helped fill in the details where necessary.

At the mention of Harry's duel with Voldemort, Cedric was shocked and mortified. Without even knowing it, he could have lost Harry. In fact, Harry had to get Kreacher to fetch yet another calming draught from his stores, his boyfriend was shaking so badly.

"He used the Taboo curse during the last war as well," said Sirius, as Harry at last finished, "A good number of Order members were captured that way."

"Except that he only controlled Britain and part of Europe last time," Harry pointed out, "Where these guys come from, he controlled a good part of the world, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much," said Jiro. The guy had not said too much, and this was not lost on Sirius. He filed it away for later, but said, "As I said in my letter, Dumbledore's been working hard to get me a trial."

"Well, they do have Crouch's testimony, right? He should be forced to testify."

"But Harry, you know how that works already. Just getting a fair trial is a hit-and-miss thing with idiot Fudge in power," Sirius reminded, "It will really hinge my solicitor."

"Why don't you petition for political asylum in a foreign country?" questioned Zachariah, "It would probably get the wheels turning a little quicker than sitting on your ass waiting for the antiquated British system to get in gear."

"Never really thought of that."

"See what I mean, Harry?" said Jiro, "There's a ton of things Sirius can do here, if he'd get a second opinion and not be blinded to the whims of one Albus Dumbledore."

"Jiro has an issue with Dumbledore," Harry supplied, at Sirius and Cedric's questioning looks.

"Problem with him?" Jiro snorted, "The man's a manipulative goat-fucker, that's what he is." That got a round of laughter from Matt and his band mates, while Harry looked mortified.

"We could probably get the Canadian ministry to hear his case," said Zachariah, drawing the conversation back on topic, "This is a gross miscarriage of justice, our legal system will want to rip the British ministry a new one." That got a snicker from Harry. "Why, it's true… or was, before you-know-who took over."

"Then that's where you guys can help us," said Cedric, "Use the floo—I imagine you would know who to contact over there."

"Yeah, pretty much," said Jiro, "I've got a pretty thick file on the computer."

"Computer?" questioned both Sirius and Cedric.

"The desks out in the common room—you guys probably didn't notice them, but, it's a Muggle electronic device that's incredibly useful," explained Zachariah.

"There's no way that sort of thing should work in here," Cedric pointed out, to which Harry grinned, answering, "That's what I thought, too. It seems Fred and George were pretty busy in their world. On that note, gonna have to speak to them."

"There's an extensive file on my computer, everything they'd want to know," said Zachariah, "And Harry, Jiro and I want to talk to you after this about the, um, arrangement you made earlier."

"If you're asking me to forget about the fine—"

"No. A substitution, but this isn't the place for that, no sense in airing dirty laundry," said Zachariah. He flinched, and felt back to his left ear, adjusting one of his piercings.

"Fair enough," said Harry. That got a curious look from his godfather.

"Harry. You do need to let Ron and Hermione in. They're your best friends, right?" Cedric questioned. Harry nodded, although reluctantly. It was bad enough inviting the twins. It was going to result in questions he wasn't quite ready to answer—he'd already said too much to Matt, after all.

"Something else you will have to consider, Harry," spoke Sirius, "Your new friends here may already exist here. You might want to check on that so you avoid major problems in the future." Harry only nodded. "Makes sense. Never mind the fact they're from twelve years into the future as WELL as being from a different dimension."

"It still floors me this happened, though," said Cedric, "Merlin, Harry, you have no idea how bent out of shape people have been. Ron's mum's been nothing but a mass of nerves, even Snape has been—well, do I dare say it—concerned?" That got a smirk out of Harry. "Yep, I knew he actually cared."

"It's not funny, Harry. Dumbledore's recalled well…"

"The Order? Doesn't surprise me. He did the same thing the first time around as it was."

"Dumbledore plans on moving you to my place 'as soon as he is located', his words," said Sirius.

"No offence, Sirius, but I'd rather stay here. Your house has far too many unpleasant memories for me. Beside the point, I haven't been here long enough to charge the blood protection."

"Blood protection?" questioned Matt.

"I'm not going into detail," answered Harry, "But my mum's sacrifice when Voldemort attacked gave me some powerful protections against him… as long as I live with my aunt… as long as I stay at her house for a month or so, Voldemort can never physically attack me here." He looked down the table at Jiro, who looked about ready to burst out laughing. "What?"

"Dude, that has to be the biggest load of horse shit I've ever heard!"

"Jiro… you have no clue what you're talking about, mate. My aunt doesn't really love me, but she doesn't HATE me either."

"Have the wards ever been tested? Has he ever tried to visit you at your relatives?" Jiro challenged.

"Well… no."

"There's my point, you can't know that. I thought you knew Bill."

"I do, but—"

"Ask him about your 'blood protection'. He knows a thing or two about wards as well as curse-breaking."

"I know. Considering I almost married him." That got strange looks from the members of "Thrice Defied", and a smirk from Cedric. After all, he was well aware of the 'future' Harry was from.

"Right. But ask him, see what he has to say about it. I guarantee, you won't like the answer."

"So how do you know so many people from our world, Mr. Kane," questioned Sirius.

"There were only a few of us who were truly fighting to undermine the Dark Lord's regime. We were constantly sharing information, meeting, and acting. So it was only a natural thing I should run into the Weasleys. Great people. You know Victor Krum as well, right?" Both Harry and Cedric nodded. "He worked all over Europe, trying to draw people together to fight. Sheeple. All I have to say." Harry burst out laughing at that comment. He finally collected himself, saying, "Glad we agree on something, Jiro."

"That is?"

"The 'sheeple' of Wizarding Britain. They'd rather listen to what the supposedly unflappable, great, ministry of magic has to say, rather than actually taking initiative and thinking for themselves."

"Exactly why our world ended up with the Dark Lord in control."

"And if things don't change here, we'll be facing the exact same thing. And Jiro. There's no taboo curse here. You can say his name."

"It's hard to break an old habit," answered Jiro, with a shrug.

"What is the taboo curse anyway?" questioned Justin.

"It acts like a tracking charm," answered Jiro, "Quite clever, really. Just saying the name cancels any protective enchantments, and causes a strong magical disturbance(2)."

"What about a Fidelius charm?" questioned Harry.

"Not certain, that's a powerful charm, Harry," answered Jiro.

"I know, I've cast it before."

"A fid-ius charm?" questioned Matt.

"Fih-day-lee-us," said Harry, "It completely hides an object or a place from those who don't know the secret of it. One person knows the secret, and can pass it on to others. Like Jiro said, it's a very powerful charm—many counter spells and so on have little effect against it."

"Harry… are you gonna contact the twins?" questioned Jiro.

"Yes, right. Guess that's the next thing. Cedric, do you mind calling them?"

"Now?"

"yeah, now's as good a time as any," Harry decided. Cedric nodded and stood.

"In the meantime, I'm gonna hook up the fireplace in here. Give me a minute." He also stood up, and left the room.

"So has Harry put you guys under a secrecy charm yet?" inquired Sirius. Matt and his friends shook their heads. "That will need to be taken care of, if you're to continue to interact with the Muggle world."

"Yeah, I understand that," said Matt.

"Guess I should be getting our notes and so on together, if the twins are coming," said Jiro, "Zack…"

"Right." The two of them left the room as well.

It seemed a split second later, Harry popped into the room, bringing a small notebook. "I did it last time without this." He knelt in front of the fireplace, and began to draw a series of strange symbols in various places. "Sirius, who's been staying or visiting your place while I've been gone?"

"Just about every member of the Order at one point or other. All the Weasleys are there, save for Charlie and Percy. Merlin, even Snape's been there far more often than I can stand."

"And just now?"

"A busy house, if that's what you mean. Dumbledore wasn't there, but a good number of others were," answered Sirius.

"In other words, best I don't actually fire-call there myself. Made the right decision getting Cedric to do it… there, that should just about do it." The flames roared green for a second. Harry then pointed an index finger at the fireplace. "Addendum, Fred and George Weasley." The fireplace flashed green for a moment.

"Harry," said Cedric, returning to the room, "They want to come, but—"

"Yeah, I forgot. Tell them to come through now," said Harry, "In fact, tell them to use the address: Harry Potter's trunk, library."

"All right." With that, his boyfriend was gone again.

Seconds later, the fire roared a brilliant green, and out stepped two identical, ginger-haired twins. One actually had a bit of soot on his nose, and it was debatable whether it was from the use of the floo network, or something else.

"Fred, George, glad you guys could come," said Harry, indicating vacant seats at the table. "Thanks for christening my second floo connection, by the way."

"It's an honour," said Fred, accepting a seat, while George finished, "Always glad to help our esteemed business partner!", occupying a seat next to his twin. At the same time, Cedric walked back into the room, and retook his seat beside Harry.

"Harry, what happened?" questioned Fred, once introductions were made, "Mum's going half spare!"

"So Cedric and Sirius have told me," said Harry, "Let me share a few memories with you. Look directly into my eyes, and don't break contact until I tell you to."

"Okay." Fred looked into Harry's eyes, and was instantly flooded with a series of memories pertaining to the past few days.

Several minutes later, they at last broke eye contact. Fred only shook his head, saying, "You certainly have a knack for finding trouble, eh, Harry?"

"More like trouble finds me," answered Harry.

"May I share this with George?"

"Yeah, of course," answered Harry. George turned to his twin, and it was obvious Fred was doing the same thing to George as Harry had done to him. 'So they DO know the mind arts,' Harry realized.

"How come you didn't do that with me?" questioned Cedric.

"It's not quite as personal, I guess. I wanted to tell you in my own words, not just give you a stream of memories. The thing is, passing a stream of memories is much quicker."

"Dumbledore will want to know you're okay," said Sirius.

"And you can tell him the bare minimum. I'd rather he didn't know about my trunk."

"Yes, he was curious as to what you meant by your trunk following you."

"He doesn't have to know what KIND of trunk, just that it managed to follow me somehow, at which I'm still completely baffled as to why it did, you can quote me on that."

"Why don't you want this Dumbledore to know about here?" questioned Matt.

"Because I'm not quite ready to tell him certain things just yet. See, Jiro is partly right, in that Dumbledore is rather manipulative. I know the why, and yes, it does irritate me to no end, but at the same time, I know how to deal with his manipulations. He needs me far more than I need him at this point.

That said, I also don't want to be at odds with him. There'll be a time when I will share absolutely everything with him. I will need his help, and he is truly a powerful and influential wizard. That's the kind of power I will need behind me for the sort of changes I want to make in the wizard world. Our fight is NOT over once Voldemort is gone, it will only have just begun."

"Why do you say that, Harry?" questioned George. They had obviously finished their memory-sharing.

"If I want the world to be a better place for Hermione and Dean and their children, or any other Muggle-born, for that matter, things have to change. I really don't want to see another Dark Wizard like Voldemort come along a generation from now. If that happens, then everything we're doing now will be for nothing."

"Yes, a point well made," said Jiro, stepping into the room. He brought one of his 'power boxes' with him, while Zachariah brought with him a notebook computer. He placed the computer in front of George, while Jiro set the box behind it, closer to the centre of the table.

"What are these things?" questioned Fred, eyeing the equipment curiously.

"This—" Jiro pointed to the box, "—was one of your creations, at least where we came from. You guys worked on it for a couple of years. Your dad was quite proud of you."

"Fred, look! It's one of those Muggle pluggy things like dad has in his shed!" George pointed excitedly at the eight standard electrical receptacles attached to the side of the box. Zachariah was already connecting the computer to one of them. Jiro turned the box around, and pointed to the label affixed to the back.

"Fred, either someone's copied our trademark—"

"Or Harry's new friends tell us the truth," finished Fred.

"Once this thing boots up I'll show you some of your notes," said Jiro.

"Okay, as interesting as this is… we're going back to my room," said Owen, gesturing to the others. Matt declined, however, getting a shrug from his band mates.

"All right with us."

"And I do need to floo home. I'll pass on the message to Dumbledore that you're back at your relatives' place. I assume that's where your trunk is?"

"Yes," answered Harry, standing. He gave his godfather a hug, and the man quickly used the floo to return to Grimmauld Place. The three members of "Thrice Defied" who had not seen the floo in use yet stood rooted to the floor, jaws hanging open in utter shock.

"What the fuck?!" Owen swore.

"The floo network," answered Harry, with a grin. Owen only muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and the trio left the room.

"I said it before, they haven't seen nothing yet," Harry grinned, returning to his seat at the table. Already, the twins were in rapid conversation with Jiro and Zachariah about the notes contained on the computer. Clearly they were indeed most interested in the information. Hopefully the twins would keep them occupied and less apt to antagonize Matt—at least as far as Jiro went. 'Still can't believe what happened earlier,' Harry thought to himself, as he felt an arm slide around his shoulder. "Missed you," Cedric hissed into his ear, and Harry had to smile. 'Perfect distraction'.

* * *

_Have I mentioned before, Jiro's an ass? Okay. So yeah, he's got issues with his social filter… doesn't always think before he opens his trap, like yours truly at times. That's gonna get him in trouble, and it certainly played out here. Matt's about ready to murder him, and so is __Owen__ at this point… the other band members wouldn't be far behind for that matter._

_(1) Drawing from HBP movie-verse here. JKR described the healing charm as being 'very hot, then very cold'. I think the movie-verse application is more realistic. C'mon, it's a broken nose! It's gonna HURT being magically reset._

_(2) Taken from p.316, "Deathly Hallows", Canadian soft-cover edition._


	12. Harry Spins a Tale

**-CHAPTER XI-  
HARRY SPINS A TALE**

**OR, HARRY'S CLOSEST FRIENDS OLD AND NEW LEARN A FEW THINGS**

**

* * *

**As it became evident Cedric would likely be staying in the trunk, another change had to be made. Harry had quickly explained what had happened to Matt, and the change in sleeping arrangements.

Of course, that would no longer do, but Cedric came up with a compromise. He understood the reasoning behind Harry's invitation, in that Matt would not be sleeping alone. That didn't mean they had to share a bed, however, and so a second four-posted double bed was added in the opposite corner, after furniture was moved around.

Now, as it neared 11 pm, Cedric and Harry were cuddled together on Harry's bed, although Harry was engrossed in the journal he had borrowed from Dumbledore. He hadn't practiced the Doppelganger charm, but was instead studying something else, the main reason for obtaining the journal in the first place.

Matt occupied his new bed, although he was also nowhere near ready to sleep. The days' events most certainly weighed heavily on his mind, and even though the notebook lay open on his lap, the words did not come to him.

The trio was interrupted with a knock on the door. Zachariah framed the doorway.

"Come in," said Harry, setting the journal aside, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Right, forgot you wanted to talk to me."

"We can pay the fine, but… you guys seem to need the equipment more. The twins—"

"I doubt it's worth five thousand galleons," Harry interjected.

"Not right off, no, but think of the potential profit."

"Stuff the twins have a right to as it is."

"…"

"Did he tell you everything that happened?"

"He shared his memories. Part of me wants to scream at you for doing that, but… I can't. Even 'I' warned him last time this went down. You won't believe the number of times I've had to haul his ass out of the fire. He thinks just because he's a wizard he can get away with doing whatever he pleases, consequences be damned… The thing is, he also forgets this shit affects me too."

"Sounds like you put up with a lot of shit, then," said Matt.

"Sometimes…" Zachariah let out a sigh, and dragged a chair away from the newly conjured desk, taking a seat. "I've almost divorced him three times now. But… who's gonna protect him without me?"

"Maybe that's not your responsibility, mate," said Cedric.

"I find it rather comical," said Matt, "A Muggle minding the wizard? Sounds rather bent to me."

"Tell me about it," Zachariah snorted, "But…" he sighed again, continuing, "I don't know what I would do without him. You know what I mean, Harry, I can see it between you two…" he gestured at Harry and Cedric—the brown-haired teen had also swung his legs over the side of the bed, and now sat dangerously close to Harry, an arm slid around his waist. "Anyway," Zachariah continued, "I promise to do my best to keep Jiro under control. From what you've told us, you need all the help you can get… and Jiro DEFINITELY knows what he's doing."

"I'll concede that," said Harry, "Thing is, I also have to look out for Matt here, never mind his friends. They're about ready to murder your husband, and I really don't blame them. He should know better than that!"

"You're preaching to the choir there," Zachariah agreed, "So the trade is a no go."

"I can't. He has to understand I'm not joking. Next time it happens, he'll be out of here, and there will be charges filed with the ministry."

"Never mind what I will do to him," said Matt, darkly.

"You can't forgive him?"

"No. Your… partner attacked me twice. Once was bad enough… twice? No, Jiro's made himself an enemy."

Zachariah blew out a breath, standing. "All right. Disappointed, but I understand. You guys have a right to feel like you do… and I guess I would too." He left the room, saying, "'Night."

"Harry… you're sure it's a good idea to keep him around? You're asking for trouble, I reckon," said Cedric, uneasily.

"He's on his last ticket," said Harry, "One toe out of line, he's gone, and by the sounds of it, Zarchariah's just about had enough of him too. Surprised they've lasted as long as they have."

"How long?"

"Three years, Ced," answered Harry, "Three years of that."

"Zachariah won't leave him. He's too forgiving, like you are."

"Forgiving? No. I learned the hard way many times over," answered Harry, darkly, "I truly learned that lesson when Ron and Hermione were killed."

"What happened?" questioned Matt.

"No. I don't want to talk about that. That's… something I don't want to ever experience again… and that's what I would do if I were to discuss it."

Stepping into the dining room for breakfast, Harry, Cedric, and Matt found Sirius at the table, breakfast already set out at the centre of it. Of course his godfather would want to spend more time with him, he realized. Much like it would be in the great hall at Hogwarts, there was cereal, fruit, and toast, boiled eggs, sausages and toast. Two pitchers of pumpkin juice were present, as was one pitcher each of apple and orange juice.

"Sirius," Harry grinned, taking a seat.

"Hey, kiddo. Sleep all right?"

"Better than the past few nights," answered Harry, loading up a plate. Sirius smirked, knowing full well the reason for Harry's answer. Just then, Zachariah and Jiro made their way in, and both sat at the far end of the table—clearly to be as far away from Matt as possible. Jiro had a nasty red mark on the side of his face that somewhat resembled a hand-print. He was scowling at everyone, and Harry had to be careful not to actually smirk. No doubt, Zachariah had put him in his place again, and judging by how fresh the mark was, quite recently.

"'morning, everyone," said Zachariah.

"Mr. and Mr. Kane," said Sirius, inclining his head.

"The twins stayed downstairs with us, I hope that was all right," said Jiro, "We were busy until two this morning."

"Nope, no problem with me," said Harry, "In fact I do need to add a couple of rooms, since they might like to have their privacy while they're here."

"You're pushing the limits of the trunk already, aren't you?" questioned Sirius.

"Almost. I can probably get two more good-sized rooms, but that's just about it. After that I really have to figure something out." He looked up to see Owen and Patrick step into the room, followed a moment after by Justin; each of them took seats at the table, greeting the others, save for Jiro. He only got glares from the newcomers. They were all fully aware of what Jiro had done to Matt, and they were by no means impressed. Owen in particular was giving Jiro a death glare. It was a good thing looks couldn't kill, or Jiro would have been dead many times over.

"From the looks Mr. Kane is getting, I gather something unpleasant happened?" queried Sirius.

"You could say that," answered Harry, "Been dealt with."

"I was an asshole," said Jiro, "And I'm sorry."

"Yeah, judging by that nasty mark on your face, the only thing you're sorry about, is that your partner's all pissy about it," said Matt, coldly.

"HEY, I AM trying to be nice!" said Jiro, angrily.

"Matt… he's trying," said Harry, "Just both of you let it go, okay?"

The table fell silent, although the unspoken tension was almost palpable. For Harry, it was frustrating, seeing his new friends at each others' throats. Yet, he couldn't muster a lot of sympathy for Jiro—he'd attacked Matt twice, someone who obviously didn't easily bury a grudge. He was practically famous in the world they had left, right? So to be attacked such as he was, it just didn't normally happen.

The silence was suddenly broken, as Fred and George popped into the room with a noisy CRACK, making Owen knock over his glass of orange juice, spilling its contents. Harry only grinned, banishing the spilled juice, and magically refilling his now empty cup. "Hi guys."

"Sorry about that," said George, taking a seat.

"Forgot there were Muggles present," Fred added.

"So I hear you guys were busy last night."

"Very," said George, "Jiro's com-putter is wicked. The stuff he's been showing us."

"We're both astounded by the detail," Fred completed.

"Yes, useful… guys, is there anything there that might help me link two trunks together?"

"There might be," said Fred, "But you could just set up another fireplace, right?"

"Yes, but I'd rather not have to use the floo network if I can avoid it."

"We can have a look after breakfast," said Jiro.

"Why would you need more than one trunk?" questioned Owen.

"I'm almost at the limit as to how much I can magically expand this one," supplied Harry, "We'll need a second one if I want to add much more, which I do." Just then, a large barn owl swooped into the room, to land on the table in front of Sirius—Harry had configured the trunk in such away that owls could enter and deliver mail to those inside it. It had a newspaper secured to one of its legs, which it held out for Sirius. He took it, and placed three knuts in a small pouch secured to the other leg, then offered it a slice of bacon, which it took. The bird then took off, flying from whence it came.

"What the fuck just happened?" questioned Justin, looking VERY confused.

"Owl post," Harry explained, while Sirius opened the copy of the Daily Prophet.

_DUMBLEDORE SUSPENDED FROM WIZENGAMOT, ICW_

_Aging wizard no longer in a sound state of mind, by Rita Skeeter_

_Both the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Warlocks have temporarily relieved Albus Dumbledore from his position in both bodies, citing his fantastic believes in the continued existence of Lord Voldemort._

_A spokes-witch from the Ministry of Magic has gone on record to say, "It is believed without a shadow of a doubt that the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort has been vanquished once and for all, and we as a governing body cannot stand by and allow someone to state the contrary, no matter WHAT sort of status the individual has."_

_The ministry has gone on to say they are also investigating claims by the one who vanquished the dark wizard nearly fourteen years ago, which go along with the Hogwarts headmaster's claims. "We are equally disturbed by the fact [Dumbledore] has somehow coerced or bewitched young Mr. Potter to make similar, outlandish claims. The ministry will be taking equal steps in that regard, to ensure [the truth] is made very clear."_

_Indeed, this reporter must question both the motives of Dumbledore and Mr. Potter. Is it yet another foolish attempt by the boy to gain more attention in the public eye? Or is it an attempt by the elderly wizard to gain further control of the Ministry? This reporter will continue to keep you, the reader informed, as I feel we are only scratching the surface of this sordid tale._

"Right. They'll all sing a very DIFFERENT tune when Voldemort storms into the ministry one night," Harry scowled, after reading the article aloud.

"Ministry insider?"

"Umbridge, likely. Useless pink toad she is. She will be neutralized, I swear on everything holy," Harry vowed.

"As in Delores Umbridge?" inquired Jiro.

"That would be her."

"She runs the Muggle-born registration commission. She had thousands of Muggle-born witches and wizards arrested and thrown into Azkaban," said Jiro, "I only escaped by keeping my head down."

"Sounds darker than what Harry went through," Sirius noted.

"You-know-who is in charge where we come from," answered Jiro, "Even in Canada."

"What's a Muggle-born?" questioned Owen.

"I'm a Muggle-born," answered Jiro, "It means a witch or wizard born to Muggle parents. The ministry—once it was taken over by you-know-who—created the commission to persecute people like me, basically. They say we somehow stole our magic. It's a load of horse shit!"

"Sounds bent to me," Matt agreed, "I mean, I would think your magic is a part of you, not something you can just learn—or steal."

"Well, Mr. Tyson, there have been a good number of honest studies by the Department of Mysteries, but there's never been a good answer as to why it happens."

"Harry… I never got to ask. What year are you in now?" questioned Jiro.

"Starting fifth year," answered Harry.

"So it's right after you-know-who got his body back…"

"Except he didn't," said Harry, "I don't want to get into details just yet, because there are still people missing from this table."

"Ron and Hermione," Fred guessed. Harry nodded. "Once they're here, I promise, everyone will get a rather detailed explanation of the hows and whys of me knowing what I do. All I will say, I have detailed knowledge of the future."

"No time better than the present," said Cedric.

"Do you mind? I'd rather not be calling Grimmauld Place from here myself," said Harry. Cedric nodded, standing. He left the room. Harry finished the last piece of toast on his plate, and also stood. "Better add them to the floo."

Once he had added Ron and Hermione to the trunk access list, he then took a seat in front of the fireplace. He smirked inwardly to himself when Matt took a seat in one of the couches off to the side, and lit a smoke.

It was nearly ten minutes before the fire roared a brilliant green, and Cedric stepped out of it. "They're on their way. You've added them to the access list already?"

"Way ahead of you, Ced," answered Harry, as Cedric sat beside him. Only an instant later, the flames turned green again, and this time, a bushy-haired witch stepped out, along with a ginger-haired wizard. 'One of the twins' brothers,' Matt assumed.

"Harry! You're all right? You have no idea—" Hermione began, but Harry held up a hand, saying, "I'm just fine, Hermione. Guys. Before we take another step, I need a wizard's oath from the both of you that whatever I say here remains a secret."

"A wizard's oath?" questioned Hermione.

"Right," said Ron, taking out his wand. Holding it in front of him, he spoke, "I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, swear on my magic, that I shall not disclose anything about to be shared with me by Harry James Potter, so mote it be."

"So mote it be," spoke Harry, letting the golden thread of magic seal the oath. Hermione quickly duplicated Ron's oath, at which, Harry said, "Great. I know that was a lot to ask, but I really need to be sure what I'm about to tell you won't end up being repeated to certain people."

"Guess that makes sense. Harry, where did you get this?" Hermione gestured to the room around them.

"You like it? I visited a store that specializes in Wizarding travel gear. You probably don't remember Professor Moody's trunk… but it had lots of compartments—although this one only has three. We're in the third," Harry explained.

"And where is the trunk now?" questioned Ron.

"In my room at my relatives' place. So Dumbledore can't say I'm not where I should be. It's just not exactly as intended."

"And you have to be at your aunt's because of the blood protection, right?" questioned Matt.

"And you are?" Hermione apprised the stranger.

"I'm Matt. Matt Tyson."

"A pleasure. Hermione Granger."

"And Ron Weasley."

"Harry's told me a bit about you guys," said Matt, as they shook hands.

"Let's go into the dining room, the others are in there."

"Others?"

"Just c'mon," said Harry.

Introductions were quickly made once they were seated, although both Ron and Hermione got a shock from Jiro, who addressed Hermione, "Mrs. Granger-Weasley."

"Excuse me?"

"Well… um… you two were married, where I come from," Jiro supplied, with a shrug. That got a swat from Zachariah, and a glare from Harry.

"Right…" he said, "I mean, that sort of applies in what I'm about to tell you all, but I'll get to that. My story begins on June 24th. Some of you already know that story, but for those who don't know, truly terrible things happened… things that began eleven years of nightmares…"

By the time Harry was finished, it was nearly time for supper. Five empty vials that had once contained a calming draught sat on the table in front of him; he had needed that many to remain calm during the explanation, for the future he told of was truly a dark place. It had had a profound effect on his new friends equally as his old ones, Hermione needing to brush away tears on more than a few occasions. Jiro, too, was stunned. He thought he knew everything about the boy-who-lived, but only now realized, everything he knew was wrong. No, this was definitely no boy.

"You're really from the future," said Ron, finally. Harry nodded, and said, "Let me try something." He stood up, gestured with his hand at himself, and he began to change. Gone was the boy of nearly 15, and in his place, stood a man who looked to be going into his 30's. His green eyes and raven hair were still unmistakable, but the hair was shoulder-long and stringy, clumped together in some places, and the face had changed: The face of someone who had been through hell, was the best way to put it, as it was marked by a number of scars, not including his infamous lightning bolt scar linking him with Voldemort. Someone who had long ago lost his innocence in the fire of war. His body equally, bore a number of scars, but only a few of those were visible.

"This is my true appearance," spoke the boy become man, "I will turn 27 on the 31st, rather than 15."

"Bloody hell, Harry," spoke Ron, while Hermione only stared, open-mouthed. "If… if you had not explained to us… Merlin!" she finally managed.

"I know. I look of fright. Luckily, this body did not travel back with me. Unfortunately, my mind did. I'm not who you think I am. That Harry Potter died a long time ago."

"No, he didn't!" Hermione protested, "You can't think that way, or V-v-voldemort will have already won."

"No, he won't ever win. I defeated him once, I'll do it again. I swear on everything holy, he won't ever win, nor will he take away those who mean so much to me." He sat back down, blowing out a long breath.

"Mate, I don't care what you look like," said Cedric, "You're still handsome to me."

"Means a lot," said Harry.

"Me too, mate," said Ron, "You'll always be my best friend, no matter what."

"You know my answer Harry, although your appearance is quite startling," said Hermione.

"I know it is… but among you, this is who I am. I won't pretend any more."

"Can you hide your scars?" questioned Matt. Harry only nodded, gesturing again at his face. The scars vanished, save for his infamous lightning-bolt scar—the one he could do nothing about. "Why?"

"Just curious. I mean, the look suits you better, I think."

"He won't be able to use that at Hogwarts, though," said Fred.

"Unless he wants the entire school to know his secret," his twin added.

"No. When I go back to Hogwarts, I will look like I'm 'supposed' to."

"Gotta wonder what Malfoy would think if he saw you like that," Ron grinned.

"Well, he's likely to find out," Harry answered, getting a shocked look from his school friends. "I'm not kidding."

"But why, Harry?"

"I told you about his change of heart, right? What if I can influence that sooner? Get some help from the snakes, rather than them be a pain in the ass. I've already got Snape's support. Getting Draco as well, it would double the chances."

"That'll be a difficult sell," said Sirius, "What do you have to offer that Voldemort doesn't?"

"My memories. Just like I did with Snape, I'll show Malfoy exactly what's in store. Just the shock value alone should get his attention." Just then, Kreacher popped into the room. He gave a squeak of shock, seeing Harry's changed appearance.

"It's still me, Kreacher," said Harry.

"Master Harry has changed his appearance?"

"I was showing everyone what I really look like," Harry explained. The elf seemed to think on this for a few moments, then said, "All are staying for dinner, they are?"

"If they'd like," said Harry. Kreacher gave a low bow, and popped away. That got a sour look from Hermione. "Please don't argue with me about Kreacher. I'm glad for his help. I asked if he'd like to help out here rather than stay at Sirius' place."

"So that's why Dobby and Winky are at Sirius' place, then," Ron guessed.

"Yeah. I asked if they'd like to help there, since I know it's busier. Kreacher wouldn't deal with it well—he didn't the last time around, kept calling Hermione a Mudblood."

"Well, kiddo, you've truly turned him around, I have to admit," said Sirius. Just then, plates and cutlery appeared on the table, and the food itself appeared at the centre, much like had happened at breakfast.

"Okay. As cool as your trunk is, Harry, could we maybe go outside for a bit?" questioned Matt, as the dishes and leftovers vanished from the table. "We've been stuck in here for almost three days now."

"Right. Anyone else care to come for a walk? There's a little park not far from here."

"Matt, you sure that's a good idea?" questioned Owen, cautiously.

"Why not? No one knows who we are here. Can't hurt anything," Matt pointed out.

"Other than Death Eaters that might be looking for you. Harry, do be careful," said Hermione.

"I plan to. We won't be long. Cedric, coming?"

A quick glance at the map gave Harry another reason to smile: his relatives were away for the evening—they likely didn't even know he was back in the house.

"Right. Let's go, then," said Harry, and made a hasty exit from the trunk, Cedric and Matt quickly following.

* * *

At precisely that moment, miles to the north, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the many shiny trinkets that adorned the headmaster's office let out a long, agonizing cry, and began to spew black smoke. Had the headmaster been there to witness this, he would have been very alarmed, and made an urgent trip to Privet Drive. As fate would have it, Albus Dumbledore was currently meeting with the Order at Grimmauld Place, and so had no inkling the protective wards surrounding Number 4 Privet Drive had just collapsed.


	13. An Unpleasant House Call

_WARNING: Violence, coarse language._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XII-  
AN UNPLEASANT HOUSE CALL**

**or, Lord Voldemort comes calling at Privet Drive**

**

* * *

**The sun had at last set as the trio began walking back to Privet Drive. It was somewhat liberating to be out and about without too much concern about being bothered or recognized. He still retained his 'older' appearance, and so no one gave him a second look as they walked down Magnolia Crescent.

Mrs. Figg's cats, on the other hand. Harry had completely forgotten about her and her many pets. Of course, he knew now all about them being spies. There were currently four of them watching from various places as the trio passed.

"Shit. Guys, we have to get back." He pointed to one of the cats, which happened to be black.

"Don't tell me you're superstitious," Matt snorted.

"No. I know who owns that cat… and that one… and that one…" he pointed off each of them.

"So?"

"They're part kneazle… a magical animal. They're VERY smart, and most definitely keep tabs on me. And, they know me by scent and magical signature, so my appearance doesn't matter."

"So… some people or things can see through your disguise?"

"Absolutely. Harry couldn't walk into Gringotts that way," said Cedric, as they entered the alley between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk.

"Is it just me… or is it getting cold suddenly?" Harry was thinking the exact same thing.

"Matt… get in between us," said Cedric, "Whatever happens, do EXACTLY what we tell you to."

"What… what is it?"

"Dementors."

All three of them could see their breaths now as they stood in the alley way. The sky itself had suddenly become black as the oncoming night, and the street lights had gone out, leaving nothing but pitch-blackness. Save for their heavy breaths, not a sound could be heard otherwise. The three of them were shivering violently from the sharp cold that had suddenly gripped the alley—it had been a warm evening, after all. Ice was forming on the fences that lined the properties on either side due to it.

"Can't see a thing," Matt whispered.

"Shhh… I'm trying to—" And there it was. Just like the first time… the thing he was dreading. Something was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths(1).

"Wands out!" Harry hissed, drawing his. "LUMOS!"

A bright light flared from the tip of his wand, lighting up the area immediately around them. Cedric copied him, and the three of them were stopped short by what it revealed.

"Oh Merlin…" Cedric managed, for there were at least eight hooded shapes encircling them. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A moderate-sized badger burst from Cedric's wand, and charged at one of the foul creatures that was making a run at the group. It was thrown into the air by it.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted, and in an instant, his stag joined Cedric's badger, driving off the beasts.

Matt was both terrified and astounded by the events unfolding around him. As terrifying as the Dementors were, the charms Harry and Cedric were using were equally awe-inspiring. The badger seemed to run alongside the stag, teaming up to dispatch two and three at once, driving them back into the sky.

In his fascination with what was happening, he failed to notice a pair of the foul creatures approaching from the rear. He was suddenly grabbed from behind and slammed to the ground. In an instant, he was again seeing the death of Harry's parents—and nothing. He succumbed to the darkness.

"Matt?!" Harry shouted, wheeling around. His heart stopped, as he saw a dark shape leaning over his new friend, hood already lowered, only a second away from taking his soul. "GET IT!" Harry commanded, and his Patronus lunged at the target, forcing it to swoop away. 'Why the FUCK won't they leave?' "Matt?"

"Harry, we have to get out of here!" Cedric shouted.

"I know that! Get over here! –GET IT!" he cried again, as another Dementor attempted to take advantage of their prone position. "Help me lift him up," he said as Cedric knelt beside him. Between the two of them, they lifted Matt off the ground. "Apparate?"

"Take my arm, then," said Harry. He had Matt hoisted over his shoulder practically like a bag of potatoes—the weight was staggering. 'This is going to be interesting', he thought, as Cedric grabbed his free arm. He did his best to twist on the spot, and the three of them vanished with a loud CRACK.

The three of them collapsed heavily on the front lawn of No. 4, Privet Drive. The street lights were all on, and the stars were out—they had escaped the Dementors.

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore, at once checking Matt over. "Rennervate." He spoke, touching the guy's chin with an index finger. His eyes snapped open, but they held abject terror. What had he seen? What were his worst memories?

"Is… are… th… th… they gone?"

"They're gone. You saw them?" Harry arched an eyebrow as Matt seemed to nod. He gestured at himself, restoring his younger appearance… no doubt members of the Order would show up at any minute, and possibly someone from the ministry. He had to look the part.

"How come you didn't just apparate us into the trunk, Harry?" questioned Cedric, stowing his wand, "He needs a calming draught at minimum."

"Yes and I need to restock my stores. I guess I just… not the first time I've missed my destination. C'mon, let's get back into the trunk." He again looked at Matt. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No… just… mind's a little… cluttered." Matt's eyes had become less-focused at this point.

"It'll be that way for a bit. Let me help you up, you can lean on me." He reached out a hand, which Matt barely gripped. He was definitely in no shape to be moving much. "Cedric, a hand?"

With Matt supported between them, the three of them stepped through the door to No. 4 Privet Drive. His relatives were still not home, and the house was dark—they hadn't planned on being out as late as they were. Then—

"EXPELLIARMUS!" came the voice of a man he loathed meet again, and Harry's wand flew out of his hand, clattering against the door frame.

"STUPEFY!" Cedric snapped, but to no avail.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" came the voice again, but the spell smashed into one of the pictures hanging on the wall in the entry way.

"Hold onto me!" Harry hissed, jabbing a hand out at the unseen attacker. Yet, the spell also slammed into the far wall rather than impacting something. He tried to apparate again, but quickly realized he couldn't.

"STUPEFY!" the voice cried again, and Harry felt Matt go limp. 'Better he be stunned than dead,' he thought, darkly. Cedric seemed to have the same idea, and although they continued laying fire back on their unseen attacker, they both let Matt down to the floor gently.

"I know it's you, Wormtail," said Harry, "Come back to finish what you started?"

"STUPEFY!" came Wormtail's voice again, and both Harry and Cedric had to dodge the spell.

"Reducto charm," Harry whispered, and Cedric nodded. "REDUCTO!" Harry seized the opportunity, and summoned his wand back to him. "REDUCTO!" Both spells slammed into the back of uncle Vernon's favourite chair, blasting it to many pieces. Wormtail responded sending a purple jet of magic at them, which they both dodged.

"Ced… go up to my room, get help!" Harry instructed.

"NO! Don't be a—"

"STUPEFY!" Cedric was nailed in the chest and fell limp, such was Matt.

"Where are your friends now, Potter?" Wormtail cackled, now framing the opposite end of the corridor, brandishing Voldemort's yew wand. Harry launched several more stunning charms, but the older wizard dodged them all, and this time, on the way to the floor, he sent three separate stunners toward the boy. Harry's world faded to black.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being tied securely to the large tree in the back yard. A large, man-sized cauldron sat on the ground not far from him. Cedric and Matt were both piled against the back hedge, although from what he could see, neither were actually tied up. Matt looked to be somewhat conscious, but Cedric was still out cold. If Cedric would wake up…

"Ah, our guest has awoken," spoke Wormtail, and Harry's scar seemed to explode in pain. That was all the answer he needed—he knew what was going on.

"It was most unfortunate our little birthday party was so interrupted," spoke Wormtail, "So my master and I thought we should visit you and help you celebrate yours just a few days early." While he spoke, he was moving about the cauldron. He pointed his wand at it, and a fire lit beneath it, causing the contents of the cauldron to boil quickly. Sparks were flying from the boiling mixture, and as his scar burst to life with pain again, a voice came from a bundle of robes near the bench. "Quickly now!" Harry already knew what was in the robes, but could do nothing. The traitor had bound him up too tightly. Even his hands were bound. He needed a free hand to do even wandless magic.

Wormtail was already retrieving the bundle of robes and the ugly creature that lay within it. Already he was visualizing the ugly 'baby' form of Voldemort, as Wormtail carried it over to the rapidly boiling cauldron. And there it was, the ugly creature, being dumped into the boiling mixture. It seemed to sputter and spew forth even more sparks, as the mutated thing sunk to the bottom of the cauldron. But Wormtail was drawing a jar full of fine dust from his robes.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, YOU will renew your son!" he spoke, dumping the contents of the jar into the cauldron. With a hiss, the contents of the cauldron now shimmered a poisonous blue colour, continuing to sputter and hiss sparks in all directions.

But now, Wormtail was whimpering, and Harry knew what was about to happen next. He didn't look away, however, having seen horrors far worse.

"F-f-flesh of s-s-servant, w-willingly given… you… w-w-will revive your master…" He held his right hand in front of him, and using the blade he produced, he brought the knife down in a violent slash, cleanly slicing off the hand just above the wrist. It landed in the evil concoction with a sickening plop while Wormtail screamed to the night. The potion turned a brilliant, bloody red colour, and seemed to light up the back yard. A glance over at Matt told him the guy was beyond terrified. He turned back to find Wormtail was again in front of him.

"I will kill you one day, traitor," Harry vowed, but Wormtail didn't seem fazed. He had brought the blade up to Harry's arm, which was exposed, and dragged it across the skin, then slid it back into his robes. Producing a small vial, he collected blood from the cut. "B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe."

Wormtail staggered back to the bubbling cauldron, and dumped the contents of the vial into it, causing the contents to turn a brilliant, blinding white. Even Harry had to shield his eyes from it. The showering sparks reached a crescendo, culminating with a tremendous blast of steam which shrouded the yard in a fog.

As it had been the last time, Harry hoped against hope it had somehow failed. Yet, exactly as the first time around, his hopes fell on deaf ears. A silhouette of a figure was rising from the cauldron. "Robe me," came the high, cold, voice. Still sighing and whimpering, Wormtail complied, gathering the silk robes from the bench with his good arm, and slid them over Voldemort's head.

Voldemort spent a minute or so inspecting himself. Appearing pleased with the result, he then turned to Wormtail. "Your arm, Wormtail."

"Oh thank you, master," said Wormtail, holding out the arm that was now missing a hand.

"Your OTHER arm, Wormtail."

Harry knew what was about to happen, but there was no way to brace for it. His scar again seemed to explode in pain, as Voldemort touched the dark mark on Wormtail's forearm. "Let us see how many are brave enough to return."

"The ministry… the magic detectors… Aurors will be here any minute," said Harry.

"At which time I will be long gone, and you… will be dead," answered Voldemort, "We have three guests with us tonight." He smiled, turning his attention to Cedric and Matt. "Rather handsome, the pair of them." He seemed to think on something. "Wormtail had a bit of fun with this one, I think. Or was it something else? Yes, I see it in his eyes. Dementors so close to home, Harry?"

"Leave him alone!" Voldemort spun around to face Harry again. "He your boyfriend?"

"N-no," Harry ground out, his scar still blazing with white-hot pain. He felt a powerful thrust against his mental defences. It was staggering, but he held on. It stopped shortly after.

"The boy has strong mental defences. Someone has taught him well—ah, look, Harry. My family arrives!"

Sure enough, six dark shapes materialized in the back yard. Each wore black robes, and were hooded and masked. Yet, Harry could spot several masks which he recognized. Lucius Malfoy was amongst them, as was McNair.

Unlike last time, however, Voldemort did not go into his speeches. He healed Wormtail's hand, giving him a new, shiny, silver one. He then turned back to his Death Eaters. "Our time here is short, if what Potter says is true. Cut him from his restraints, and place him with his friends. It should only be appropriate they die together."

Wormtail quickly banished the ropes binding Harry to the tree, and placed him in a full body bind. He was floated over to where Cedric and Matt were held—another Death Eater had revived Cedric.

"Master… time is running out," Wormtail warned.

"And so it is. Any final words, Harry Potter?"

"I call back the life debt owed by Peter Pettigrew!" Harry shouted, "His payment shall be his very life!"

Wormtail had no chance to react to the utterance. It was as if Harry had cast the killing curse on the beady-eyed man. He collapsed to the ground like a marionette who'd had its strings cut. The Death Eaters gathered in the yard muttered amongst themselves, while Voldemort only looked at Harry with… perhaps a little shock? The boy had most certainly shocked him with that action! Nonetheless…

"Who shall die first, Harry? Your friend Cedric? Or the Muggle? Not that it will matter." Malfoy then whispered something in his ear, and Voldemort seemed to nod. "Indeed. How can I turn up an opportunity for my loyal servants to demonstrate their research. Since Harry Potter will not decide who goes first, I leave that to you, Lucius."

"The Muggle doesn't appear all the 'fresh', shall we say, my lord," spoke Malfoy, "This particular curse, we should have a specimen in better shape. Therefore it shall be the wizard." He levelled his wand at Cedric, and gestured with a harsh series of motions, then hissed, "Internus Corpus Mortalis!"

Cedric was instantly writhing in pain. It was as if he were nailed with the Cruciatus curse. Whatever the curse was, everything felt wrong!

"Perhaps we should save the Muggle, master. He does have a pretty face, after all," spoke McNair. Voldemort only laughed, saying, "I shall allow that. Good bye, Harry Potter." Voldemort levelled his wand at the boy-who-lived. "Avada Kedavra."

* * *

_(1) Taken from p.20, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition._


	14. Reactions

_WARNING: Coarse language, alcohol use__, spoilers for "Deathly Hallows"._

**-CHAPTER XIII-  
REACTIONS**

**Or, reprecussions of that evening's events are felt**

**

* * *

**No one inside the trunk was all that concerned about Harry being out as long as he was. Cedric was with him, after all, never mind the fact Harry was in fact eleven years older, and could well take care of himself. So it was only when Jiro happened to look at the map, that they realized something was horribly wrong.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" he erupted, "Every available wand outside, right now!"

"What—why, what's going on?" questioned Sirius, joining Jiro at the map.

"Death Eaters."

"And Voldemort," said Sirius. He was at the floo in an instant, while the twins, Ron, and Hermione were with Jiro, making ready to climb out of the trunk. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were gathered in the back yard, but the house was empty.

Suddenly, with a very noisy CRACK, Harry, Matt, and Cedric appeared in the middle of the common room. All three of them looked terrible, with only Matt barely conscious. Worse, it looked like smoke was seeping out of Harry's cursed scar.

"Harry!!" Hermione shrieked, dropping to her knees beside her first magical friend. He looked of death.

"K-killing curse…" Matt stammered, hoarsely, "Dark wizard… killed him."

"Dumbledore's on his way," said Sirius, joining the others. "Mr. Tyson… was it Voldemort?"

"Yes. Don't know what… how… some fucked up ritual…"

"What happened to you? Did he hurt you too?" questioned Owen. Matt shook his head. "Cursed Cedric… Cedric needs more help than me." He was becoming slightly more coherent at this point, but he was once again shaking like a leaf.

"How did you get back here?" questioned Ron, kneeling beside Hermione. "I mean, with Harry and Cedric out and all?"

"Idunno, I just—"

"Impossible!" Jiro snorted, "He's a MUGGLE!"

"We're gonna need Madam Pomfrey here," Sirius decided.

"She'll have to come through the lid. Harry's the only one with the right to change access, I think," said Jiro.

"Which means he's not dead!" said Hermione, relieved.

"How do you know?!" Matt exclaimed, "I saw the curse hit him!"

"If he was truly dead, all the enchantments and expansions on the trunk would have failed!" Hermione persisted. She was holding Harry's hand at this point. It felt cold and lifeless. Yet, he wasn't dead. She just KNEW IT!

"Kreacher," Sirius called. The elf in question popped in and bowed low. "We need calming draughts."

"Master Harry is consuming them all earlier," the elf croaked.

"Merlin's balls. Back to what you were doing, then." Kreacher scowled at Sirius, then popped away. "I'll have to call on the last person we need here right now." He'd only gotten the words out of his mouth when the fire in the fireplace roared to life, and Snape stepped out of the floo, rubbing his left forearm. He instantly sized up the situation: the Dark Lord had been able to use Harry in his resurrection. "Move," He ordered, kneeling beside the three injured. He started, seeing the condition of Cedric. "What colour magic struck him?" he questioned Matt.

"D-didn't see," answered Matt. Snape sneered, pressing on the man's mind for a moment. He spoke the truth. Yet, the words hissed by Malfoy were enough. A Draught of Living Death would be needed at once.

"Calming draught, you will drink it. This one is for Potter." He gestured sharply at Cedric, and snapped, "Petrificus Totalus!" He was gone back through the floo quick as he had come.

"Who was that?" questioned Matt, after consuming yet another foul potion. He had gotten into a sitting position, even though every bone in his body ached for some reason, and he was still shivering.

"It was Snape," answered Hermione, "Harry told you about him earlier."

Jiro, meanwhile, was keeping an eye on the map. A number of other labels had appeared on the map, all of which were closing in on the house—none had Death Eater symbols beside them. 'Order members,' he thought.

A sharp intake of breath from Harry drew everyone's attention back to him. The boy-turned-man opened his eyes, and they burned with anguish. 'Of course,' Matt realized, 'He thinks Cedric's dead.' He reached over, and put a hand on his shoulder for support.

"How…"

"Take this," said Matt, holding out the vial Snape had left. Harry quickly consumed it, and got into a sitting position.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione practically demanded. That got a glare from both Harry and Matt, while Harry glanced over at Cedric. His eyes welled up with tears, and he wiped them with his hand. There would be time for tears later. Whatever Malfoy had done would not be easily fixed.

"He's back. Voldemort is back," he answered, his voice barely a whisper. "Fred and George…"

"Right here, mate," said George, his twin right beside him.

"One of you or both of you… take the trunk to… to the Leaky Cauldron. Get us a room, I'll pay you back."

"Why? You need help, Harry," said Sirius.

"Dumbledore will see the trunk."

"Who bloody cares about your trunk? Harry, Cedric's been cursed with something truly awful, gauging the reaction from Snape!"

"Guys…" said Harry again, and the twins left the room. "Are they still out there—Voldemort, I mean?"

"Yeah, there's about twelve or fourteen people in your back yard now," answered Jiro, still watching the map. Just then, the map scrambled. The trunk was in transit. It cleared up as abruptly as it scrambled, now showing the inside of a building, along with a number of labels. The place was quite busy, given the time of day.

The floo fired again, and Snape again stepped out of it.

"Professor," said Harry.

"Diggory has been struck with a body rot curse," said Snape, forcing the teen's mouth open with a finger. He dumped the contents of a vial down his throat.

"He'll be all right?"

"I do not know, Potter. He will need to be transported to either Hogwarts or St. Mungo's."

"His parents, they need to know," said Harry, standing. He was shaky on his feet, but still offered Matt a hand up. Both of them looked like death warmed over. They both tottered over to the couches in front of the fireplace, and sat—or more like fell—into one of them.

"Explain," said Snape, following. The rest of the group gathered around them.

"Pettigrew ambushed us in the house," said Harry. He paused, then gestured at the small coffee table with his hand, conjuring up glasses of water.

"Thanks," said Matt, "Though I think I'll need something much stronger later."

"You and me alike," Harry agreed, and downed the glass. He was running on pure adrenalin at this point—without it, he would have collapsed in anguish the second he woke. "Anyway… he attacked us… managed to stun us… he had the cauldron ready in the back yard, did the same ritual he used the first time around. Voldemort's back… he let Malfoy curse Cedric… and he… he cast the killing curse at me…"

* * *

Harry had not thought too much about how he would deal with the Horcrux that lay in his scar. Yet, as the green bolt of magic slammed into him, he knew he wouldn't have to at this point.

For now, the boy-who-lived climbed back to his feet. The place was very different from the first time he had fell to Voldemort's killing curse. The first time, he had landed at King's Cross train station, where he and Dumbledore had had a conversation. This time, it looked like an open amphitheatre, where several robed individuals looked toward him. One of them approached.

"Welcome, chosen one," he spoke, smiling. The first thing that struck Harry, was how tall he was. Fair skinned, with aristocratic features, and long, silvery hair that fell down his back, tied in a pony tail. He wore white robes with gold trim, and sandals with strapping that disappeared under his robes. He could feel the ambient magic humming about, so much it was making him feel light-headed. But perhaps that was from the killing curse…

"We hadn't expected to see you here so soon," spoke another. She was equally beautiful as the first speaker was handsome, wearing similar white robes, although hers were trimmed in emerald green.

"Where am I?"

"That does not matter at this time, magical descendant," said the first, "You have a destiny greater than you can ever imagine. Yet, now is not the time nor the place for that sort of conversation, Harry."

"How do I get back? The Horcrux is gone? That's the only two things I need to know."

"Rather impatient now, are we?" spoke the woman, with a musical laugh. "Yes, the Horcrux has been most definitely destroyed. Your getting back where you belong, we will help you with that."

"A greater destiny? So… that's why I came back, then. Why I have to deal with Voldemort a second time?" Harry guessed.

"Yes and no…"

"Ninesto, time is up, he has to be returned," spoke a third individual.

"All will be revealed, Harry."

"Wait! That's not very helpful!" Harry shouted, but the world was already fading away.

* * *

"How did I get back here?" questioned Harry, his mind again focusing on the common room and those around him.

"Yeah, a good question."

"I told you!" Matt spoke, angrily, "'I' DID IT!"

"You… you did accidental magic?"

"Idunno, I just… wanted to get us away from the bastard and… we appeared here."

"Matt… you…" Harry closed his eyes for a moment, realizing the gravity of it. Voldemort would have most likely taken the three of them, and committed various evil acts against them, dead or not. "A debt… paid in full," he whispered. At Harry's words, Matt felt a warm tingle run down his spine.

"But, HOW?" Hermione demanded, "Matt's just a Muggle!"

"If what he says is true, I daresay no he's not," said Sirius. Just then, the twins appeared with a noisy CRACK. "We're set up in a room for the night," said George.

"You two will take Mr. Diggory to the Hogwarts infirmary," Snape directed the twins. "You will tell Madam Pomfrey he's been cursed with the body decaying curse."

"Yes professor," said Fred.

"I'm going too," Harry declared, making to stand, but Matt grabbed onto him. "NO you're not… if you feel like I do, you won't make it ten fucking feet."

"Harry, there's nothing you can do for him right now," said Sirius. His face said it all. The body decaying curse was usually fatal.

"What does the curse do?" questioned Matt, while Harry sat back on the couch, scowling, his arms folded across his chest.

"It quite literally causes the body to attack itself from the inside out. Never mind the excruciating pain it causes, the victim usually succumbs within twenty-four hours. A horrible way to die."

"Sounds like the Ebola virus or something," said Owen. He and the other members of Matt's band had remained quiet for the most part, still unsure what to think of the situation.

"What… what did you give him, professor?" Harry questioned.

"Draught of Living Death," answered Snape.

"What's that do?" questioned Matt.

"It puts someone into a deep sleep," answered Harry, thinking, 'At least he won't be in pain.'

"Along with the petrifying jinx, it will hold him stable until we can treat him. Do beware, Potter, we may not be able to help him," said Snape.

"I… I know. Thanks for your help, professor." Harry happened to look over, and noticed Matt was missing a clump of hair. A smile threatened to form on his lips, but the incidents they had just gone through prevented it. He only reached over and pressed a finger to the back of Matt's head. "Now I know you apparated us back into the trunk… you're missing a clump of hair right there."

"He splinched himself," said Sirius.

"At least it wasn't something more important."

"So… does that sort of thing happen often?" questioned Matt, uneasily, reaching back a hand to feel the spot Harry was pointing to. Sure enough, there was a significantly thinner spot at the very back of his scalp.

"Yeah. It means you weren't determined enough. I still can't believe you managed to apparate, never mind the fact you did a double side-along on your first attempt."

"HEY, it's not like I PLANNED on doing it!" Matt huffed.

"No, and I'm thankful you did it somehow."

"Thought I was gonna be sick for a few moments… the feeling is really fucked up."

"You get used to it after a while," Harry responded with a shrug. Without realizing it, he had allowed his arm to slide around Matt's shoulders.

"I am returning to Hogwarts to help Madam Pomfrey. Get some sleep, Potter," said Snape, stepping over to the floo. He took a handful of floo powder, threw it into the fire, and when the flames turned green, he stepped into them, calling out, "Hogwarts, Professor Snape's office!" he vanished in the fire, which then returned to normal. Just then, a screech owl swooped in through the door that led to the entry hall. It soared across the room, dropped a large envelope it carried in its beak into Harry's lap, then swung around, heading back from whence it came.

Harry almost exploded with rage, already knowing what the envelope contained, seeing the large 'M' stencilled on the front. He had no doubt it was the same owl who had delivered the letter the first time around.

"What… what is it?" questioned Matt, as Harry opened the letter. "Bad news," he answered, as he read:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-one minutes past eight this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle. Further, we received additional intelligence that you performed four stunning hexes, two disarming hexes, and two blasting curses, fifty-three seconds later._

_The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand._

_As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the second of August._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk,_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic(1)_

"As if this can't get any better," he hissed, dropping the letter in his lap. Matt picked it up.

"What is it?" questioned Owen.

"I did magic outside of school in front of Muggles," said Harry, "I have to attend a hearing."

"But… you were just protecting us," Matt was very confused.

"It's that Umbridge woman. She set the Dementors on me last time. Never mind the fact the ministry has no idea I have wizard friends visiting who are of age… or the fact Voldemort decided to have his rebirthing ceremony IN MY FUCKING AUNT'S BACK GARDEN!!"

"The things in the alley… what were they?" questioned Matt, trying to keep Harry from going off the deep end. Even he could tell he was a breath away from cursing someone, or some THING.

"Dementors," answered the boy-who-lived, "They normally guard Azkaban… I told you about it."

"It felt like… like I was…"

"Never gonna be happy again," Harry finished, "I know. Last time around, it was my cousin." He pointed an index finger at Matt, whispering an incantation. "Better?"

"A fair bit."

"It only goes so far."

"Thanks."

"Harry, what happens when the Order and the ministry show up at your relatives' and you're not there?" Sirius pointed out. Harry only shrugged. "Better I'm not there."

"But people will be worried!" Hermione persisted, "You have to tell people where you are."

"Guys… LOOK! I was attacked by Voldemort for the second time in four days. My boyfriend's been almost KILLED! One of my new best friends almost had his SOUL sucked out of him! Do you really think I want to face Dumbledore and his 'you must be protected' dragon shit right now?!" A number of smaller items in the common room actually began to vibrate as Harry's temper rose. He blew out a breath, reigning it in—it wouldn't do to blow up the room, after all.

"Dumbledore will have to be told something," Sirius persisted.

They were interrupted, as another owl, this one a barn owl, swooped in through the entry hall, to land on the coffee table in front of Harry and Matt. It held out its leg, which had a small roll of parchment secured to it. Harry took it, but said, "Wait, please." The owl blinked, and began preening its feathers, while Harry read:

_Harry-_

_Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND._

_Arthur Weasley(2)_

Harry had to let out a small laugh. "Little late," he said, picking up a loose page of parchment from the coffee table. He grabbed a Muggle pen, and scribbled out a response. "This should cover it." He rolled it up, secured it to the owl's leg, and the bird took off, flying from whence it came.

"What did you say?" questioned Sirius.

"Exactly as it is. Too late, I've already left my relatives', but I've gone somewhere I think should be safe for the time being, and I'll be in touch."

"Dumbledore won't like that answer, Harry," said Hermione, shaking her head.

"So what? I don't care." He went to stand, but was nailed with a strong bout of vertigo, and quite literally fell back onto the couch. "I can quite take care of myself, I don't need minders." The adrenaline was wearing off, and the anger he was feeling was quickly being replaced by fear and sadness. "I can't even be with Cedric."

Everyone fell silent, as the reality set in. They were all well aware of what had happened the first time around for Harry. Now, it looked very much like history was about to repeat. Would the boy-become-man be able to handle it?

The silence was disturbed by the arrival of a third owl, who landed on the coffee table, blinking expectantly, a letter in its beak. Harry accepted it, and the bird left. He quickly opened the letter, although he knew full well what this one would say as well:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Further to our letter of approximately fourteen minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the second of August, at which time an official decision will be taken._

_Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries._

_With best wishes,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk,_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic(3)_

"Harry… for what it's worth… I'll go to court with you," said Matt, "I'll testify in your defence."

"Don't know how much weight your testimony will carry, Mr. Tyson," said Sirius, "Wizarding society looks down at Muggles, they see you as being below the rest of us."

"And do you think that, Mr. Black?" questioned Matt.

"No. But my opinion is rare amongst pure-blooded witches and wizards."

"But he's not really a Muggle all the same," Hermione pointed out, "He somehow did accidental magic."

"I expected it," said Harry.

"Expected it? How?"

"When he was injured by Voldemort the first day we met back in his world," Harry explained, "I gave him some of my blood. Blood replenishing potions don't work well with Muggles—I remembered that from a few years ago."

"So just passing him a wizard's blood… made him a wizard?" Owen was sceptical.

"Something like that. And tonight… he saved our lives… really, Voldemort would have likely done terrible things to him, never mind what he would have done to MY body." He drew in a deep breath, and exhaled. "Y'know, what's the point of me coming back, if everything's just gonna play out the same way?" Harry questioned, frustrated.

"It's not the same, though, mate," said Ron.

"It IS the same… we're with the same result—Umbridge sent those FUCKING Dementors to Little Whinging, I'll bet you a bag full of Galleons! I'll face the full Wizengamot for something that should at best involve the Improper Use of Magic office!" He tried to stand for a second time, but was again forced back down by a powerful sense of vertigo. "Well, let me tell you this! I'll roast that idiot Fudge over an open fire, him along WITH that useless toad!" He paused again, reigning in his emotions. "D'you know, if they make me face the entire Wizengamot, they inadvertently grant me adult rights?"

"So maybe this is a good thing, kiddo," said Sirius, at last taking a seat on an adjacent couch.

"It's not you that has to go through this, Padfoot. To have to deal with the smear campaign from the ministry and the Prophet."

"Can't you sue them?" questioned Justin. Harry let out a laugh, although it was not in the least bit amusing. "If only! Wizarding society is so far in the dark ages regarding that kind of thing."

"Maybe now is a time to start," said Owen.

"Like how? You're talking about centuries of bureaucratic process, never mind the pure bloods. They would never allow for such a thing."

Of course, both Owen and Justin's comments got Harry thinking. If he could get the help of the goblins, that might actually work. Yet, dealing with the goblins at Gringotts was dodgy at best… they were creatures not to be trusted. So how could he pull something like that off? A good Wizarding solicitor might have suggestions…

"Guys… there's not much else we can do at this point," Harry finally said, "Get some rest."

"You're sure you're all right?" questioned Owen, gesturing to Matt.

"Yeah, I'll live." Owen shrugged, and left, with Justin and Patrick following. A bedroom door closed moments later.

"Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, you two can borrow my room—I won't be needing it tonight," said Matt.

"I'll transfigure a bed for one of you," Sirius offered, standing.

"You might want to floo Grimmauld Place and let Mrs. Weasley know as well… Merlin knows I'm in for a strong talking-to from her as it is."

"Fred, George… we can get back to work dealing with your notes," said Zachariah.

"Right," George agreed.

"Come get us if you need something," Fred added, and they, along with Jiro and Zachariah, popped out of the room.

"Y'know, a stiff drink would do well about now," Matt remarked. That got a nod from Harry. "Tempus," he spoke, and '9:48 p' drifted from the end of his extended index finger. Then, it dawned on him. He didn't have his wand. "SHIT!"

"What?" questioned Ron. He and Hermione still occupied the couch to Harry's right.

"My wand. I don't have my wand—I dropped it when Wormtail stunned me at my aunt's house."

"Couldn't you get the phoenix to get it for you?" Matt suggested. Harry nodded, but realized he probably didn't need to go that far. "Kreacher?" The elf appeared in front of him with a soft pop. "Master Harry call for Kreacher?"

"We were attacked at my relatives' place. If I show you where, can you retrieve my wand?" The elf nodded, and Harry gently passed the memory of his aunt's house to the elf. It was a rather dicey thing passing memories to a house elf, but it could be done. "Got it?"

"Kreacher is seeing Master Harry's memory now." He popped away.

He was only gone for about ten seconds. He returned, looking rather pleased with himself, the object of his hunt gripped firmly in his little hands.

"Okay, spill. What did you do?" Harry questioned, although he smirked, having a pretty good idea of what had happened. The elf passed Harry his wand, saying, "Nasty Muggle was trying to attack Kreacher, so Kreacher is sending nasty Muggle through cupboard in the hallway."

"The cupboard under the stairs," said Harry, looking rather amused. "Serves him right. Was he about my age?" Kreacher nodded. "Good. You did well, Kreacher." Harry thought for a moment. "If I give you some Galleons, could you visit Tom in the Leaky Cauldron, and pick us up a bottle of firewhiskey?"

"Kreacher is knowing Tom," answered the elf. Harry stuck out a hand. "Accio money pouch."

It took a few moments, but finally, a small pouch drifted into Harry's outstretched hand. He opened it, fishing out a fist-full of gold coins. "Here. Get us whatever that will buy—and keep whatever's left over," he added, seeing the glare Hermione was giving him. The elf bowed and popped away.

"Harry, you sure that's a good idea, mate?"

"What, me getting shit-faced? Considering I've just relived one of my worst nightmares? I think I'm entitled." He gestured at himself, once again restoring his older appearance. "Just a reminder of who I truly am."

"So? It still doesn't mean you can be irresponsible!" Hermione scolded.

"My new wizard friend and I are going to get quietly drunk, and try to forget what's happened tonight. My boyfriend may DIE tonight, and I can't be there. How would you feel if it were Ron, Hermione? –never mind what that would do to me, but…" The bushy-haired witch sighed, understanding all too well. Since the end of the school year they had been in daily contact, and with Harry's disappearance, they had been together at Grimmauld Place. With his one comment, Harry had drew their feelings and attraction to one another out into the open.

Nearly a minute passed before Kreacher returned with a soft pop, bringing with him three bottles of amber liquid. Harry thanked the elf, and he popped away.

"I warn you, this shit's VERY strong," said Harry, conjuring up two glasses.

"Bring it," Matt smirked. Harry only nodded, and poured two generous portions. He set the bottle down, then passed a glass to Matt. "To surviving… again," he muttered, and glasses clinked.

"Harry!" Hermione was clearly not impressed.

"What, it's true," said Harry, and downed the glass. Matt didn't hesitate, also downing his glass—after all, he most certainly enjoyed more than the odd drink.

He was momentarily startled at the strength of the beverage. Harry had warned him it was strong, but this—was unexpected.

"Damn!" he managed, but held out the glass.

"I do believe Mr. Tyson likes it," Harry smirked, refilling their glasses. Hermione did a VERY good imitation of professor McGonagall, and said, "Fine. If this is what you two plan on doing for the rest of the night, I think we can find something better to do."

"But… 'mione, what about—"(4)

"What. Did you call me?" Hermione turned abruptly to face Ron.

"'mione—"

"Don't. EVER. Call. Me. That. Again," Hermione hissed.

"Right," Harry warned, "Listen to her, mate, last time I heard you say that she cursed your mouth off for an hour."

"I take it miss Granger doesn't like pet names?" Matt smirked, and downed his second drink. Just then, Sirius reappeared from the corridor. "What, I'm not invited?" he noted the bottles on the table.

"Want some?"

"Actually, no. I do need to get back to Grimmauld Place. I'll make sure the Order knows you're okay."

"Okay. Thanks."

"You've got hangover cures, I hope."

"Yeah, got that covered."

"You're encouraging him? Uhg!" Hermione muttered, standing, "Come on, Ron."

"It's not my place to scold him anymore," answered Sirius, with a shrug, "Considering what he's faced. Keep that in mind, Hermione." He activated the floo, and vanished into the green flames.

"What'll your mother say?"

"Oh Merlin, Hermione, don't play the guilt trip. The idea's to at least temporarily forget things. It's either that, or I spend some time in front of a mirror with my wand."

"Why would you do that?" questioned Matt, as he helped himself to a third glass full of the amber liquid.

"It's a joke," answered Harry, "Self-obliviation is dangerous. You could completely wipe your memories."

"'night, Harry," said Ron, as Hermione led him away.

"Your friends aren't all that impressed."

"Thank you captain Obvious," Harry snorted, "Bloody hell, they're not my minders."

"Just let it go, mate," said Matt, refilling both their glasses. Harry only nodded, accepting one of them. The amber liquid was already having an effect on him, and if he could help it, he wouldn't know which was up by the end of the night.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: Those worried about Cedric… he will make a full return in the future. Right now, I needed him to be elsewhere._

_Ron and Hermione were meant for each other. Do I have to say it again. Loads of people think they weren't, saying they fight too much. Me, I say that's EXACTLY why they belong together. It's not so much fighting, but arguing, a demonstration there is chemistry and passion there. After all, there are a few canon pairings that just don't work all that well… Bill and Fleur, Harry and Ginny (to a lesser extent, anyway)…_

_(1) Taken from p. 29 - 30, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition. Most of it verbatim._

_(2) Taken from p. 31, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition._

_(3) Taken from p. 34 – 35, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition._

_(4)__ I don't know where other authors came up with this, but I hate it, and I think Hermione would hate it too. So she sets the record straight right off the hop. The one and only place this will ever be used in this fiction._


	15. Boundaries Pushed

_WARNING: Alcohol use, coarse language, fluff/slashy goodness._

_CHAPTER SUMMARY: Matt tries to get his head around several incidents that involve him and Harry… he begins to ask questions that, perhaps for him, are better left unanswered…_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XIV-  
BOUNDARIES PUSHED**

**or, Marry makes Matt rather uncomfortable…**

**

* * *

  
**

The light being cast through the windows of the common room was beginning to brighten, heralding the arrival of the dawn. Yet, two occupants of the trunk were still awake, although that term was being used rather loosely at this point.

Of the three bottles of firewhiskey Kreacher had brought back, only one of them had anything left in it, just enough for one more mouthful each. It spoke very clear terms as to the condition of the two men who sat—or more accurately, half-lay on the couch directly facing the fireplace. Harry was staring up at the ceiling—not that he could see anything all that well at this point, while Matt seemed to be more focused on the fire merrily crackling in the grate. His feet were haphazardly up on the coffee table, having dislodged a number of items that cluttered it—Harry had sniggered when he had done so.

"So… d'you think I'm turnin' into a wizard… for real?" questioned Matt, glancing over at Harry.

"Well… 'ya did apparate… I mean, I did it… when I was six or seven—can't 'member when and it was like instinct or somethin'." He slowly raised his head to look at Matt. "Mate, I'd bet a bag 'a galleons, I'll be takin' 'ya to get a wand sooner rather 'an later."

"Can I see it—your wand?"

"Err… sure." Under normal circumstances, he would never permit someone to handle his wand… yet, he HAD consumed nearly a bottle and a half of firewhiskey. He rolled a bit in his seat to better access it, and inadvertently bumped into Matt. "S-sorry."

"S'okay."

"It's here somewhere…"

"What'd'ya do, stick it down your pants?"

"Err… well, sort of."

"Sounds like a dangerous place to me. Don't'cha worry 'bout blowin' your cock off or somethin'?"

"WHAT?" Harry snickered, then burst out laughing. "Oh Merlin… NO, I don't put it there… I've a different wand there."

"Um… right." If Harry could see properly, he would have seen Matt's face flush quite red.

"FINALLY… bloody hell…" Harry at last located his wand, and held it out in front of him. "Look how I'm holdin' it… s'important."

"Yeah, okay." Matt gripped the base of it as shown, although a little loose, and almost dropped it.

"Careful. See… now I KNOW you're a wizard… If Owen or Patrick or Justin touched it—"

"As Patrick discovered… but why?"

"'s how we channel our magic… les' try somthin'… Say, 'lumos', imagin' a light… at the tip of the wand."

"Lumos!" said Matt, although a little slurred. A faint light glowed at the tip of the wand.

"Wicked! Now… nox to get rid of it."

"Nox." The light vanished.

"You're a wizard, Matt." Harry plucked the wand out of his friend's hand, and gestured with it at the mess they had made on the floor. The clutter went flying. "Oops, not what I meant." Looking rather sheepish, he attempted to stow his wand back in his waistbelt.

"So is' not a good idea doing magic while you're pissed…"

"Err… no," Harry answered, then, "Matt… whatever… however it happened earlier… it says loads 'bout your character, mate."

"S'only fair, you saved ours… when we met a few days ago."

"More 'an that, I gained a few new friends… You're one of my bes' friends now." His words came out barely above a whisper. The boy-become-man was fading fast.

"'night, Harry," Matt whispered, as the first rays of the sun were just beginning to cast their beams across the floor of the common room. He was only a few minutes behind, slumping over, inadvertently laying his head on Harry's shoulder.

Sometime later, Harry was brought back into a semi-conscious state by something brushing up against his jaw. 'Facial hair? When did Cedric grow facial hair? Sleeping in an awkward position?' he thought, then lazily gestured with a hand, enlarging the couch slightly to better accommodate two bodies. 'Smells different,' he mused, dragging the other form along with him into a better position. "Missed 'ya," he whispered, pulling the other body close. The darkness of sleep quickly reclaimed him.

Even though they slept, business went ahead as usual in the trunk. By 9 am, everyone was up, and breakfast had been served. Of course, between preparing breakfast and setting it out, Kreacher had also checked on Harry, and seeing his state, threw a heavy quilt over him and 'Harry's Matty', so he thought of Harry's new friend in his mind.

Sirius, of course, had been the first conscious person in the trunk, having arrived not long after Harry had made his 'adjustments' to the sleeping arrangement. He had to suppress a snicker. The couch they were sleeping on was anything BUT a couch at this point. 'Harry must've done that while still intoxicated… wandless magic and alcohol don't go well together,' he thought.

From that point on, he acted as a sort of sentry, keeping people from disturbing the pair. It was only when Snape arrived through the floo that Sirius at last dared try to wake the pair.

"Harry? Wake up, kiddo, it's almost lunch time."

"Sorry?" Harry moaned, his head still in a fog. He felt the body beside him shift, and he tried to open his eyes. His head felt about six sizes too big, and all of his senses felt 'wrong'.

"Padfoot… anti-hang over potion from my stores… if you don't mind."

"I'll save you the trip, Black," said Snape, reaching into his robes.

"Professor!"

"Harry…" It was then, he got the second shock of the morning. Never mind the fact one of his teachers was standing not ten feet away… who he thought was Cedric… was actually Matt… Oh Merlin!

"Explain," said Snape.

"Ditto," said Matt, trying to untangle himself from Harry. The look on his face said it all: he was far from impressed.

"I… I didn't mean to… I swear it!" said Harry, "Merlin, I'd never… I mean…"

"This happened by… accident," Snape drawled.

"YES! I mean… oh bloody hell… Matt… I swear it, I would never… I won't ever take advantage of you."

"But you did! That's just the thing!" Matt answered, angrily, "What did you think, you could get me pissed and have your fucking way with me?!"

"Is that what you think?" Harry paused, to accept the anti-hangover potion from Snape. He was about to consume it, but then asked, "You have an extra, sir?"

"Just one other."

"Here." He passed the potion to Matt. "Maybe that'll clear your head a bit… Kreacher?" The elf popped in, and bowed, asking, "Master Harry call for Kreacher?"

"I need an anti-hangover potion, please."

"Kreacher is fetching it right away!" he bowed again, and popped away. Matt stood up, and downed the potion. He took a seat on a couch adjacent, glaring at Harry.

"You think I would take advantage of you?"

"That's what it looked like!"

"I don't know how it happened!" Harry shot back, "It wasn't planned, if that's what you're getting at!"

"You should know, Mr. Tyson, you were quite happily cuddled with my godson for a good part of the morning," Sirius noted.

"Hey, Einstein, I was in no fucking shape to know what I was doing!"

"And neither was I!" Harry snarled, "Bloody hell you're being thick!"

"Mr. Tyson, what happened to you and Harry yesterday evening?"

"…"

"So just imagine, if the tables were turned? You might want to give Harry a bit of leeway here, I'm sure his intentions were nothing less than honourable."

"Do you remember ANYTHING of our conversation this morning, as fractured as it was?"

"You said I was one of your best friends."

"Do you really think I'd intentionally violate that? THINK before you answer." Just then, Kreacher popped back into the room, holding out a vial. "Thank you, Kreacher." The elf bowed again, and vanished with a pop. "Look. Matt, I promise you… I'll never intentionally hurt you, or take advantage of you. Merlin, I know too well what that means… to have your trust in someone shattered."

"I… okay, I guess I see your point."

"There has to be a reason Potter acted as he did," said Snape.

"If you'll wait for a minute or so… let me sort through my thoughts and I'll tell you."

"You did not exercise your Occlumency shields?" questioned Snape.

"Most nights I do… last night was an exception," answered Harry. He leaned back, closing his eyes.

"OH! Harry, you're awake!" said Hermione, stepping into the room, Ron practically joined her at the hip.

"Wait a minute, Hermione," said Sirius, while Snape only sneered.

"Why?"

"He's doing something with his mind," answered Matt, although he didn't quite understand himself.

"Occlumency," said Snape, "Protecting one's mind from intrusion."

"Oh! Of course! To keep V-voldemort out!" Hermione remembered, "But… after last night it won't matter, he doesn't have that mind link to him any more."

"It's still a useful tool, Hermione," spoke Harry, opening his eyes.

"You two looked quite smashing together," said Ron, with a grin. That got a scowl from Harry, and a murderous look from Matt.

"Wonderful. The entire trunk must've seen us," said Harry, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Matt… I thought you were Cedric. I wasn't completely aware, or awake."

"That explains the rather poor excuse for a couch," said Sirius. Indeed, the piece of furniture Harry now sat on alone looked like it had been through hell. Oh sure, it had been resized appropriately, but texture and colour were rather shocking, never mind the outer shape.

"Wandless magic and alcohol… bad combination," said Harry.

"Second that," said Matt, looking at the floor, "Where'd the shit on the floor go?"

"Kreacher probably cleaned it up," said Harry, with a shrug. Matt seemed to think about Harry's words for a few moments, then stood up, and rejoined Harry on the 'poor excuse for a couch'.

"Sorry I got all bent about it."

"Sorry I put you in an uncomfortable situation," Harry reciprocated.

"Now that this sentimental occasion is over and done with… perhaps I could get to the reason for my visit," Snape deadpanned.

"Cedric… how is he?"

"Madam Pomfrey has released him to his parents' care," said Snape, "He will remain petrified until we can determine a course of treatment. As I said last night, there is only a small chance he will survive." Harry only nodded at this. Sure, the healers at St. Mungo's were most likely looking into things along with Madam Pomfrey… but this particular curse was rare. He'd heard of it being used once the first time around, and indeed, the victim had died about twelve hours after being cursed. If anything, casting the killing curse on the guy would have been mercy.

"Thanks for your help, professor."

"Harry… Dumbledore is demanding to speak with you, and I quote, 'at his earliest convenience'… meaning yesterday," said Sirius.

"He has the Order out in force searching for you," said Snape, "I need not remind you the headmaster has many resources."

"Yeah, that he does," Harry agreed, "But I'm still not ready to share my secrets with him."

"But Harry, you know yourself, you'll never be ready for that," Hermione challenged, "You won't be able to keep this kind of thing away from him forever."

"Miss Granger is right. He will learn of your secrets eventually."

"Not today. No, I'd like to have a quiet 27th birthday, with a few of my friends and that's it. Then I'll speak to Dumbledore. Not before," Harry decided.

"Birthday… right," said Matt, remembering the previous day's conversation.

"And you don't need to get me anything. You've already given me something as it is… you and your band mates… your friendship. That means a lot more to me than anything you can buy."

"As heart-warming as this is, I do have other places to be," Snape sneered.

"Thanks for the update, professor," said Harry, while Snape activated the floo. He gave a nod, then vanished in the green flames.

"He always so… cranky?"

"Yes." Came a chorus of three voices.

"But," Harry added, "He's got his reasons, and I trust him with my life. That goes for anyone I've let in here." He looked at his pathetic excuse for a transfiguration attempt. "Yeah… rule of thumb. Do NOT attempt to do magic while intoxicated. The results are rather unpredictable." He gestured at the monstrosity with a hand, restoring it to its proper shape and appearance.

"That might have passed as some fucked up art form somewhere," said Matt, the faintest hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"Yeah, in some other universe. But hey, like I said, I wasn't exactly in any state to be doing that…"

"No, and really… Harry, drinking? Was that really necessary?" questioned Hermione.

"Yes, it was. Guys, look. I wanted to FORGET what happened yesterday evening for a few hours. That's exactly what I got."

"Awww, the two wuv birds are up…" Harry craned his neck to see Fred and George emerging from the entry hall, both sporting huge grins.

"Matt and Harry sitting in a tree—"

"So help me if you finish that, George, I will permanently transfigure you into a flabberworm," Harry warned, glaring at the twins.

"Err… what's a flabberworm?" questioned Matt.

"You don't wanna know."

"But Harry, you two looked so cute together!" said George.

"Forgetting Cedric so quickly?" Fred chimed in. that got a murderous look from Harry. "GUYS! Merlin's pants!" It was definitely not a cool thing to say, and both twins quickly realized it.

"Sorry, we didn't mean it that way, mate."

"It's okay," said Harry, blowing out a breath. The entire trunk most likely saw them in the rather compromising position, so it should be expected. He got up, and after putting on his 'younger' appearance, knelt in front of the fire. He tossed a pinch of floo powder into the grate, and spoke, "Fire-call the Diggory residence!" he then stuck his head in the fire.

"Hello? Anyone here?" he called, seeing the Diggorys' kitchen. It was several moments, but Mrs. Diggory appeared. "Mr. Potter."

"I'm sorry for what happened to your son… but… Voldemort… he's back."

"As the headmaster has warned us as well. How are you keeping?"

"As best as I can," answered Harry, "I just… wanted to check with you. If you guys need anything, floo us here."

"We'll do that, equally should something change here, we'll let you know quick as we can."

"How's Mr. Diggory handling it?"

"Very poorly, dear, very poorly," answered Mrs. Diggory, "I had to stun him when Madam Pomfrey spoke to us through the floo. He's needed three calming draughts already today."

"I know too well how he feels."

"I need to get back and check on them. Do take care, Mr. Potter."

"And you as well." Harry pulled his head back out of the floo. Just as quickly, Snape's head appeared in the fire. "The Headmaster is searching Diagon Alley."

"Thanks for the warning," said Harry, turning to the twins. "Guys. You can get into Grimmauld Place, right?"

"Of course."

"Take the trunk to Grimmauld Place."

"Put it in Regulus' room," Sirius suggested, "No one ever goes in there."

"If you tap the trunk once with your wand, it should shrink down so you can stow it in your pocket," said Harry, "Tap it again, it'll restore itself to original size." Both twins nodded, and vanished with a noisy CRACK.

"Why do they make so much noise when they do that?" questioned Matt.

"It's inexperience," said Sirius, as Snape's head vanished from the fire, "They've only recently learned how to apparate, so they haven't had much practice with it."

"Oh. Makes sense."

A few minutes after, the twins reappeared in the common room with an equally loud CRACK.

"Now that business has been taken care of…" said Fred.

"We were meaning to say thank you, Harry," George added.

"For?"

"Connecting us with Jiro of course!" answered Fred.

"We're gonna make a fortune!"

"Well, Jiro says it's all your stuff in the first place," said Harry, with a shrug. He thought for a moment. "Did they find information about fixing Muggle electrical stuff so it works around magic?"

"That was the other reason for us coming up here," said George, pulling something out of his pants pocket. He set it on the floor and re-enlarged it. It turned out to be another power box like the one that still sat on the table in the study. "Got something we can test with? Nothing expensive."

"Right."

"I've got something they can try," said Matt, standing.

"We haven't done this before."

"We can't guarantee it'll work," Fred added, "So it might just break it."

"I'm not gonna be tore up over a broken alarm clock."

"Right. We'll go into the study where it'll be easier to work," George decided.

Matt was only gone for a moment, and returned to the study with an old alarm clock that normally plugged into the wall. George looked it over for a moment, then drew his wand. He made a series of intricate movements with it, gesturing at the clock several times. The device glowed blue several times, then finally glowed green, as George muttered, "Energia segregatus!(1) …That should do it."

"Moment of truth," said Fred, plugging the clock into the power box. Incredibly, it lit up, the numbers flashing as they would when first switched on.

"I can't believe it." Hermione was clearly impressed.

"So would this stuff work at Hogwarts?" Ron wondered.

"Yeah, most likely," said George.

"This place is all magical as it is, is it not, little brother?" Fred pointed out.

"Just a second." Matt left the room. He returned a few moments later with another one of his guitars.

"No, it might get wrecked," Harry warned.

"I trust you guys," Matt insisted.

"Set it down, then. Let me try something else," Harry decided. Matt obliged, laying the guitar on the table. Harry drew his wand, as this would be a difficult thing to attempt. "Geminio!" He commanded, gesturing at the instrument.

"Harry?!" But Hermione's unspoken concerns were for naught, as an identical instrument appeared beside the original.

"Fuck me sideways!" Matt uttered, blown away by the act.

"The truth will be in whether it actually WORKS the same way," answered Harry, "Guys. Put your charms on the copy."

"Harry, I thought the duplication charm only made useless items," said Hermione, confused.

"But you know magic is only partly about wand motions and annunciation, right?" Harry pointed out, "The other part of it is the intent."

"I suppose…"

"No, Harry's just a powerful wizard, Right Fred?"

"Indeed, George," said Fred, gesturing at the duplicated guitar with his wand.

"Show me. Show me how to do it," said Harry.

"Right. Watch carefully," said Fred, as he started over. Harry followed the pattern with an index finger, rather than his wand. After all, learning a new spell without his wand was good training.

"Now the incantation is 'energia segregatus'."

"Energia segregatus," Harry repeated.

"Put it together…" said Fred, as he again traced the pattern with his wand, "Energia segregatus!" The guitar glowed green for a moment.

"And green, I take it, means the spell worked?"

"As far as we understand it," said Fred.

"But that's from our own notes, so it has to be accurate."

"I'll be right back." Matt fled the room, taking the original guitar with him.

"I think you guys might be a while," Harry sniggered.

He was right. The twins spent the next twenty minutes enchanting various pieces of equipment Matt dragged into the study, the heaviest being an amplifier. Each item was duplicated and its original packed away again—it wouldn't do to damage the original equipment, after all. All of it had been brought from Matt's flat.

"Harry… you mind giving me a hand?"

"Sure… where do you want it?"

"The corner there?" Matt gestured to the corner opposite the door.

"Sounds all right to me. Guys?"

"We'll fetch another power box," said Fred, "Jiro's got a bunch of them." He vanished with a noisy POP—he was shortly followed by his brother, who made an equally noisy POP. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, helped Harry and Matt to move the enchanted equipment to the corner of the room. Ron appeared fascinated by all the Muggle gadgetry, as Matt hooked everything up. Just then, Kreacher popped into the room.

"Lunch is about ready," he croaked out.

"Kreacher… would you mind bringing it in here? We're a bit preoccupied at the moment." Harry gestured to the equipment in the corner. The elf nodded, and with a bow, he popped away.

"What about Jiro and Zack?" Hermione reminded.

"Kreacher will send lunch down for them as well, I think." As he said that, the twins reappeared with a noisy CRACK, bringing with them another power box. It was identical to the one Matt had connected his gear up to, although this one had sixteen receptacles, eight on each side.

"Err… guys… I don't think we'll need THAT much power," said Harry.

"What do you think's gonna happen when I start playing this?" Matt gestured to his guitar. He was almost done setting up.

"Touché," said Harry. Ron, meanwhile, hadn't moved from where he stood, watching as Matt finally dared turn on the amp. He was startled with the loud CLICK that came from it.

"Promising," said Matt, making a few more adjustments.

"Oh, the shame of it! He doubts us!" Harry feigned injury, getting huge grins from the twins.

"The nerve of it!" Fred finally chimed in. Matt only rolled his eyes, plucking a guitar pick from one of the small packs he had brought in with him, and strapped on his guitar. 'I'll be truly impressed should this actually work,' he thought, making one more final adjustment.

He was more than pleasantly surprised, as the first chord he played came clear and true from the amp speaker. He shook his head, although the expression on his face was clear as day. He was back in his element, as he plucked out a few more notes.

"Oh… and you should also know… we can put unbreakable charms on your strings so you don't have to worry about them snapping."

"What was that? God, you got it to work?" Owen looked impressed, standing in the entrance to the study. Just then, a plate of sandwiches appeared at the centre of the work table closest to them.

"Yeah, they got things to work for me. Come eat," said Matt, putting the guitar back on its stand.

"So… once we get our equipment replaced… we'll need somewhere to keep things set up permanently," said Owen, more to himself than anything. The other members of "Thrice Defied" had of course joined them, they too had heard Matt's guitar.

"When will you see about getting our equipment replaced?" questioned Justin.

"Tomorrow, if you guys would like. The only thing I have to remind you of, this is 1995, not 2006. So the equipment you will find probably won't be what you're used to."

"We can make it work," said Owen.

"As for setting up a space for you guys to play, I'll work something out. For now I'll move some of the shelving in here around—they're a bit bare as it is and are just taking up space," Harry offered.

"Thanks, mate," said Owen.

"You did have a spare bass at your flat, didn't you?" questioned Justin. Matt nodded, and said, "I'll get these guys to fix it." He turned to Harry, and said, "You can copy something more than once, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Great. Justin will need an amp as well."

"So will I," said Owen.

"What about you?" Harry pointed to Patrick.

"Nope. I play drums."

"Only thing I DON'T have," said Matt, "Although I can play."

"You can play just about anything," Owen chimed in.

"Not."

By mid-afternoon, three of the band members were once again outfitted with equipment—although borrowed from Matt. They were able to plug everything into one box, the second the twins had brought up, and from there, things evolved into a rather enthusiastic jam session. Even Jiro and Zachariah had come up, since it was rather loud—Jiro sat at the far end of the room so he wasn't actually near Matt.

They didn't actually play any of their own material at that point, since Patrick still lacked a drum kit. Yet, Harry could see the effect it had on all of them—they had clearly missed playing. This brought a semblance of normalcy back to the guys in an otherwise upside-down world, at least from their perspective. 'Of course,' Harry realized, 'Matt will never be normal again—that morning's discussion, and his wilful casting of a simple charm from a borrowed wand… he's not a Muggle anymore.'

The activity was interrupted by the arrival of Fawkes in a burst of golden flames. He had a scroll of parchment clutched in his talons. However, when Harry went to take it, the bird hesitated, as if to say, 'Be careful.'

"Right. He's done something to it?" questioned Harry. the bird nodded. "Put it on the table, then." Harry indicated the work table. Fawkes dropped the parchment, then lit over to the back of a chair, while Harry poked at the parchment with his wand. "Port key," he declared.

"Why would he do that?" questioned Matt.

"Why do you think?" questioned Jiro, "Remember what I said."

"No, he's just very concerned," answered Harry, gesturing with his wand. "Finite." He took a seat, and unrolled the parchment. It was indeed the headmaster's writing, characterized by the thin, slanting writing:

_Dear Harry,_

_I understand your wish to be alone and deal with the most disturbing events that unfolded last evening at your relatives'. However, in light of those said events, it is imperative you be placed somewhere safe._

_I apologize for having taken you from whatever location you deemed safe enough, but I must stress, Voldemort is a powerful wizard, and will work to uncover your location, no matter how safe you believe it to be._

_I will…_

Harry didn't bother to finish. The letter was designed to transport him to Dumbledore's location, most likely, given the fact it had been delivered by Fawkes. He gestured at it with a finger, speaking, "Incendio." The parchment burst into flames.

"So what would have happened if you'd touched it before, well, cleaning it?" questioned Matt.

"It would have taken me wherever the port key was programmed to take me," Harry answered. He thought for a moment. "Gonna need to make a few changes to the wards."

"Anti-port key?" Jiro guessed.

"For starters. The next letter he sends might not come with Fawkes, here."

"Good things he likes you, mate," said Ron.

"Yeah, isn't that the truth." Harry sat down, and conjured up paper and pen. "Best send something back, at least." He scribbled out a few lines, rolled it up, and let Fawkes take it. "Back to Dumbledore with it, okay?" The bird nodded, opened his wings, and flashed away.

"But Harry, why are you avoiding him?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Because I'm not ready for him going all protective on me, as he just did. He fails to remember, I'm not just a boy anymore—I never was. I've got wants and needs of my own that—they might be a little selfish, but I think I have a right to that, don't I?"

"But Harry, you know the answer to that question yourself," Jiro responded, "Neither you-know-who nor Dumbledore will ever allow you that."

"Then maybe I need to start thinking of the worst-case-scenario. I was brought back for a reason that I have yet to understand. But it WASN'T for me to repeat the events I've already lived through. If so, maybe I should just A/K myself and do myself a favour."

"HARRY!" Hermione was horrified at the suggestion. The others were equally shocked.

"What? It's true… d'you all think I really want to relive my worst nightmares? I already do that on a regular basis—I'm not really looking forward to sleeping tonight as it is!"

"You're being stupid, mate," said Matt, "That's the easy way out."

"I know! Gods, I'm not serious!" Harry huffed, "Look. I'm just saying, there's a point where I'll take my trunk here, along with everyone who's the least bit important to me, and fuck off somewhere. Hopefully to another universe somewhere—WHAT? It happened once, who's to say it won't happen again?" He took in a deep breath, blew it out, then said, "Guys… I'm serious. Just maybe… the Wizarding world I know of isn't worth saving."

"You'd just doom everyone to Voldemort? What about our mum and dad?" questioned George, looking quite unsettled by the tone of the conversation.

"You guys would come with me… all of you, including your mum and dad. Cedric's parents, Hermione's parents… anyone who's stood by me. It wouldn't be a short list. But look… it's just an idea, one I hope I don't ever give more than a fleeting thought to."

"But just THINKING that, Harry, think of what you're remotely suggesting!" said Hermione, equally appalled by the notion.

"Like I said, it's only a thought. Let's just drop it."

Right after lunch the following day, Harry took the members of "Thrice Defied" into Muggle London to purchase new equipment. He had gone to Gringotts that morning, converting and withdrawing nearly 300 thousand British Pounds. He wasn't sure of the cost, but guessed musical instruments were expensive. "Whatever you need, get it," he had instructed the guys.

On return to the trunk, Harry and the twins at once began modifying everything so it would function around magic. Most items were also duplicated, and the originals packed away. Only then did Harry and his magical friends get a true sampling of exactly what kind of music "Thrice Defied" actually played.

Jiro and Zachariah, of course, had heard their music before, and were by no means surprised by it. The twins and Ron seemed quite impressed with it-their much older brother was into such music as it was, after all. Hermione seemed quite uncomfortable with it, considering some of the lyrics contained rather colourful language. Harry… he was on the side of the twins. 'Very aggressive. I can appreciate that,' he thought.

Shortly after supper, the twins again approached Harry. "You wanted something to connect two trunks, right?" questioned George.

"Yeah. Did you guys find something?"

"Quite ingenious, actually," said Fred, laying out a piece of parchment, "It functions exactly like a regular door, except it's a portal."

"It connects two spaces as if they're right beside each other," George continued, pointing out the diagram.

"Can you make it?"

"Already did," said Fred, producing a miniaturized door from the pocket of his robes, "We just need a place to test it."

"Right. That'll have to wait until tomorrow, I hadn't expected you guys to come up with a solution so quickly. If it works, I'll pay you 500 galleons for it."

"Harry…"

"No. Guys, it's brilliant! Besides, you can put it toward your joke shop. Think of it as an additional investment."

"So… you and Matt yesterday…" George began, but fell silent getting a glare from Harry.

"Guys… we are NOT an item… I wasn't exactly clear in the head."

"So we can prank him mercilessly, then?" Fred piped up.

"No, you can not," Harry spoke, dangerously, "They're still not exactly sure how to take us as it is, I don't need you guys scaring them half to death."

When Harry awoke the next morning, he was startled to find Matt had climbed into his bed. 'Of course,' he realized, 'more ugly nightmares. So how many people did I wake up THIS time?' He knew it wouldn't matter where Matt actually slept, it would have most likely woke him anyway. The bond of blood was both a blessing AND a curse. Harry gently prodded the guy in the ribs. "Hey. If you're coming with, you need to wake."

"Say again?" Matt questioned, sleepily. Harry could tell he had not slept well.

"I need to go to Diagon Alley again today, remember?"

"Right…"

"Sorry I woke you up with my nightmares again." Matt only waved it off, saying, "Who was the guy with red hair?"

"Bill. He was my second love… and you'll likely meet him," Harry explained, "He's a curse-breaker at Gringotts."

"Right, the oldest of the Weasley kids, right? A little old for you isn't he?"

"Not really," Harry smirked, gesturing to himself, reasserting his older appearance. That got a lop-sided grin from Matt.

"So if you had… if you loved Bill the last time… won't that be rather fucked up? To see him again?"

"I'll likely snog him senseless," answered Harry, with a wicked grin.

"Oh you're bent, mate."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

"And what will Cedric think of that?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it," answered Harry, feeling his mood suddenly darken.

"Sorry…"

"No, don't worry about it. It's exactly the attitude we need to keep. I'll need to make a floo call to the Diggory's before we go… I'll likely spend some time there today."

"You want me to come along?"

"If you want. Ron and Hermione will likely come though, so you don't have to."

"I don't mind. I'm gonna take a shower."

Harry watched as Matt left the room. The guy was far more attached to Harry than he realized. Yet, how? The blood transfusion was one thing, but there was something more at work. Matt was fighting an internal battle with himself, that was clear enough. The incident of two days before spoke one thing, yet the signals he was giving off were a hundred and eighty degrees to that. It just didn't add up!

The trip to Diagon Alley didn't take long, other than the adventure through the floo. Matt had not yet experienced the beast that was the floo network. Even though Harry had tried to explain how it worked, they still ended up being dumped unceremoniously out of the grate at the Leaky Cauldron. After sorting themselves out, the pair wasted no time purchasing a second—and third—trunk from the same shop Harry had bought the first one. Both had small rooms in them, which Harry would expand to suit.

Returning to the trunk, Harry set the new ones in his room, then located Fred and George—they were in Jiro and Zachariah's flat, continuing to work on the notes Jiro had on his computer. Interestingly, Jiro was completely blue from head to toe for some reason—Zachariah seemed to find it rather amusing.

When Harry informed them he had purchased two new trunks, the twins broke away from their 'research', and followed Harry back up to his room. It was fascinating, watching as Harry worked an entry hall of sorts into one of the trunks, set up in a similar fashion as the original. Once he was finished, the twins took over, working rather quickly, installing what looked like an ordinary door frame on one wall within the entry hall. Harry had marked off a section that might likely end up becoming a stairwell, and so there was only one place they could put it: directly beside the ladder that led out the lid of the trunk.

With the spell work completed in the new trunk, George said, "Where did you want the door to come out to?"

"I'll show you." Harry led the twins back out of the new trunk, then out of his room, into the hall way. He pointed at the end of the corridor. "I think this would be perfect."

"Shall we?" said George.

"After you, o' brother of mine."

It took them all of fifteen minutes to complete the connection. The moment of truth came, as Fred turned the handle, and pulled the door open. Incredibly, it revealed the entry hall in the second trunk: it had worked flawlessly.

"I'll get my coin bag," said Harry.

With that taken care of, Harry located Matt, Ron, and Hermione, and the four of them floo'ed over to Cedric's. Harry knew it would not be pleasant, yet, the sight of his boyfriend petrified in his bed was staggering. He looked white as a sheet, and could easily pass for dead. Of course, that's what the Draught of Living Death actually did. Yet, this was someone he loved above all others, someone he hoped to become bonded with one day. To see him in this condition was traumatizing.

He numbly made his way to a chair that had been provided beside the bed—Mrs. Diggory occupied the one on the opposite side. Harry took Cedric's hand, and it felt like a block of ice. Yet, why were they here, facing THIS scenario all over again? It was an event he thought he had prevented. Sure, he was still alive—just. And for how long?

"Why can't they just use phoenix tears on him?" questioned Matt. He had taken to standing behind Harry, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"The last time that was tried against the body rot curse, it caused instant death," answered Hermione, "No one knows exactly why—according to the Journal of Magical Medicine. It's a most foul thing to do to someone, since there is no recorded cure."

"Believe me, Mr…" Mrs. Diggory looked at Matt.

"Matt. Matt Tyson."

"Believe me, Mr. Tyson, the healers have been all over their research with regards to this kind of curse, including some rather exotic remedies. Phoenix tears were one of the first options suggested." Matt only nodded in understanding. There would be nothing more he could offer, other than support to his new friends.

Question was, what would happen if this boy were to die? He already knew how volatile Harry was as things stood now. Sure, he planned to hook up with the other Weasley… but… no, this would be a back-breaker, no matter WHICH way one looked at it. Everything had become so FUCKING complicated! Short days before, he and his friends and band mates had been a rising star, developing a name for themselves—the music industry had most certainly sat up and took notice.

Now, they were unknown. They had lost everything and everyone who meant anything to them. Oh sure, a good portion of THAT lay at Matt's feet. Still, had that old wizard not dropped out of nowhere… never mind Harry… and why the FUCK did he feel like he had to be joined at the hip?! What was THAT all about?

He thought carefully about the past few days, absently taking a seat Harry had conjured beside him. Specifically the past few nights. How many nights now had he spent with the boy-become-man? Better question, how many nights had he spent in his own bed? Two? Both of those nights were restless and fitful, while those he spent with Harry… he slept reasonably well, save for that morning.

Then there was the incident of two days before. Sure, he had been incensed at what Harry had done. Yet, it was clearly an accident—a case of mistaken identity. The guy had been intoxicated, never mind the fact he himself had been as well. Additionally, he had subconsciously tangled himself up with the other guy! Another issue that was making his head spin. He had a girlfriend, for fuck's sake!

That evening, although his band mates had again occupied the study to jam, Matt instead sought out Ron and Hermione, before they took the floo back to Grimmauld Place. Harry had already retreated to his room to continue practicing material out of the journal he had borrowed from the headmaster.

"You guys know Harry best, right?"

"Of course! Why?" questioned Hermione.

"I guess I'm concerned… what happens if Cedric dies? It'll destroy him, just seeing how he was today… this afternoon."

"Matt… you're not telling us anything we don't already know," answered Hermione.

"He'll off himself the first chance he gets. Think of what he said day before."

"We know. Mum's got that covered. Even if I have to stun him and drag him through the floo to the Burrow myself," said Ron.

"The Burrow?"

"That's our home," Ron explained, "It's not much, but…"

"Right."

"You're sleeping with him now, are you not?" questioned Hermione.

"Err…"

"Whatever comfort you've been giving him, he needs it. If you pull away now, you'll do far more damage than any pride or ego of your own you might be bruising now."

"Listen to her… smartest witch in our year and all," Ron grinned. That earned him a swat.

"I guess I kind of already know that. Doesn't make it any easier. I feel like—"

"Like you've been forced into it?" questioned Hermione, "Think how Harry feels, having a prophecy dropped on his shoulders before he was even born."

"Touché."

"You don't have to make love to him—that's Cedric's job. You've been a great friend so far, just whatever you do, don't back away. He needs all the help he can get right now."

"And if Cedric dies?"

"Cross that bridge when—or if we get to it, mate," answered Ron, with a shrug.

Matt wasn't sure exactly what he had hoped to gain from talking with Harry's friends. Yet, it certainly didn't make him feel anymore at ease about the situation. If anything, he felt perhaps a little bit of resentment toward the raven-haired man-in-a-boy's-body. His personal space had been trampled on, after all, and Matt was by no means a lovey-dovey kind of person. How did they EXPECT him to react, be all okay with it?!

Then again… he wasn't exactly in that great a headspace either. Just about everything Matt knew was gone. He had managed to collect the things from his flat, thanks to Harry's little friend… yet, other than his band mates—and closest friends—he had lost everything. The dark wizard was at fault for that, but yet… had it not been for Harry… or that ancient wizard just before… it was no use dwelling on what would have been, he realized, making his way back to Harry's room. It would only drive him mad.

"_I do not intend harm toward you." Matt found himself back in Montreal, as the strange encounter with the ancient wizard again played out in his sleeping mind. "You will remember neither me nor what I have done here, until you are before the one who will visit tonight." Of course he remembered that clear as day. Yet, in his own head, he heard something additional: "The boy is everything. Protect him with your heart and mind, for without him, there is no future."_

Matt woke with a start. Where did that come from? He wondered, trying to steady his pounding heart. He had relived the experience with the ancient wizard more times than he would care to count, yet, this had been the first time he had seen the second part of it. 'So I'm to protect him? Against Voldemort? How? I'm no wizard,' he thought, rolling over onto his back, folding his hands across his chest. He realized then his shirt was sticking to him, damp with sweat. 'What am I to do, take Cedric's place? Sure, that would go over well… never mind the fact I don't play that way!' he shouted in his head, as if hoping the aged wizard could hear him. 'But… what happens should Diggory actually die?' came the answer in his head, as if playing devil's advocate. The discussion with Ron and Hermione earlier spelled things out well… they all agreed, it would be a dire circumstance should that ever come to pass. Harry would need to be watched around the clock for a foreseeable future.

With that dark prospect, Matt realized there wasn't much of a choice in the matter. Harry was starting to depend on him, and as he really thought about it… just perhaps, Matt was starting to lean on Harry as well. He rolled back onto his side, inadvertently bumping against the other sleeping form in the bed. What difference did it make? 'Damned if I do, damned if I don't,' he thought.

* * *

_(1) Energia segregatus: loosely translates to "Segregate energy"._


	16. Happy F'ing Birthday

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __Jimbocous, Thenchick, StoryTagger_, and _zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_WARNING: Violence, coarse language._

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XV-  
HAPPY F'ING BIRTHDAY**

**or, Harry's birthday lives up to a dubious distinction**

**

* * *

**_**July 31, 1995**_

Harry was up long before anyone else in the trunk. His birthday was one particular day he actually loathed, considering the dark memories that it dredged up. He knew the others would make a big deal about it, and if he had his way, he would just find a hole somewhere and hide for the day, not show his face until it was long passed.

For now, he moved into the back of the study, the borrowed journal in hand, so as not to disturb Matt, who was still in a dead sleep—he and his band mates had been up late the previous night. Birthday or not, there was still studying to do… or more accurately, practice. He had still not mastered the doppelganger charm, yet, more importantly, now they had the second trunk, Harry could move his attention to the primary reason for borrowing the journal: a Room of Requirement.

The details were quite elaborate, laying out dozens of steps, and a number of required items. Most importantly, blood from a magical creature—a dragon's would be best, but there was no way he would be attempting to procure such an item. A handful of soil—the instructions clearly stated the soil must not have been conjured or obtained by magical means. Six ounces of water, also obtained without magical means, and an ordinary candle. 'The four elements, of course,' Harry realized, reading further into the instructions. The candle would be blown out during the creation ritual, completing the four elements, his breath being 'air'. It was elemental magic, he realized.

The bulk of the process involved nearly a hundred runes, which he would have to write around the door frame leading into the room he wished to use. That meant creating another room, but that wouldn't be an issue, now that he had the second trunk.

His reading was interrupted, as Kreacher appeared with a light POP. "Breakfast is being ready," he croaked.

"Thanks. I'll be out in a second."

"Miss Granger and Mister Wheezy is looking for you."

"Not surprised." Harry had to suppress a grin, at Kreacher's pronunciation of Ron's name. "Is Matt up yet?"

"He is already having breakfast. Master Matty's not a Muggle anymore, he isn't."

"You can tell, too?"

"Kreacher is feeling master Matty's magic growing. It is unnatural," spoke the elf, darkly.

"Kreacher. I know it's not exactly normal. But it was the only way I could save his life. Don't look at him badly because of it, he's one of my best friends."

"Kreacher understands," answered the elf, then to himself, "Muggles becoming wizards… Oh, what would mistress say?" he vanished with a loud POP. Harry only shook his head, packing up the journal and the few sheets of paper he was scribbling notes on, then made his way out to the dining room.

"Harry?! Where were you?" Hermione demanded, as he stepped into the room.

"In the study," he answered, taking a vacant seat at the table, which happened to be beside Matt.

"Happy birthday, mate," said Matt.

"Thanks."

"Yes, happy birthday, Harry," Hermione added. The others quickly added their birthday wishes, as a plate appeared in front of him.

"So… Mr. Tyson… will you be serenading Harry with the birthday song later?" questioned Hermione.

"No. I don't think he'd actually like that."

"Oh come on, that's playing a spoiler is it not?"

"I thought you guys knew him better than that," said Matt, with a shrug, "I've only known him a week or so and I know for a fact that's the last thing he wants right now."

"And Matt would be right," said Harry, quietly, "You know the one thing I'd like to do today?"

"Go flying?" questioned Ron.

"Right in one," said Harry.

"Flying on what?" Owen piped up.

"What do you THINK?" questioned Matt, "Think about it… wizard, witch…"

"Oh. Right."

"Well… we could go to the Burrow," said Ron, "Mum and dad are at Grimmauld Place, and so is Ginny. Percy… Percy is—"

"A prat and a git," Fred scowled, between bites.

"And he's got his own flat in London," Ron continued, "So we'd have the place to ourselves."

"No. If we go, I'll have your mum's permission. I'd rather not invade your home without your parents not knowing." Harry pulled a blank page of paper from the journal resting beside the plate, scribbled out a half-page note, and checked the time ('9:21 a'). "This will be a bit of a test. See how much I can actually trust your mum and dad over Dumbledore."

"Harry! you should know the answer to that, mate!" Fred looked slightly put out by the suggestion, as did his twin.

"I have to be sure. Fawkes?"

It took a minute, but the brilliant red bird appeared in a flash of flames in front of Harry, looking at him expectantly. "Do you mind delivering a letter for me?"

* * *

Arthur Weasley had only just arrived at his small office that better resembled a broom closet, when Fawkes appeared in a brilliant flash of flames.

"Another note from Dumbledore, is it?" Arthur questioned. The bird only shook his head, lighting over to his overflowing inbox. 'Who else would it be from,' he wondered, accepting the scroll. Coming with Fawkes, there would be no reason for it to be dangerous.

_Mr. Weasley,_

_Consider this a sort of test. As you know, today is my birthday, and Ron has given me a suggestion on what to do. I'm not looking for a huge party or the sorts, rather, just an opportunity to spend some time with my friends._

_This is where the test comes in. It's a test of trust. I know Dumbledore and the order are looking high and low for me, but at this stage, I'm not ready to deal with his overbearing, manipulative manner._

_So I ask a question. I would like to visit the Burrow for the day, perhaps go flying with Ron and his brothers and sister—you and Molly would be welcome as well, of course. I understand if you say 'no', but if you say 'yes', and you inform Dumbledore or any other Order member, I will not be able to trust you again._

_You can send your reply with Fawkes, I've asked him to wait._

_I hope my trust is well placed,_

_Harry Potter_

Arthur started. 'Merlin's beard!' he thought, having to read through the letter a second time. What was that boy up to? Yet, he had been very specific. No contacting the Order or Dumbledore. Why not? Of course, that would make sense. Yes, the aging headmaster was somewhat of a master manipulator at times, was he not? He let out a breath he realized he had been holding, and fled the room, leaving a rather confused phoenix sitting on top of the inbox on his desk.

* * *

It was nearly 10 am before the phoenix returned with a shortly written note.

_Harry,_

_We would be honoured for you to come for a visit this afternoon. Molly has already floo'ed home with Ginerva; they both insist on at least having cake, we do hope you won't mind. _

_Molly was rather insistent on telling Dumbledore, but I was very clear she was not to, and barring an accidental visit, no one from the Order will be there, save for us._

_Arthur Weasley_

"Great! Looks like we're invading your place this afternoon, Ron," Harry grinned, folding up the letter. "Thanks, Fawkes." The bird only nodded, and again vanished in a burst of flames.

"What about Sirius?" questioned Hermione.

"I'll leave a note on the coffee table in front of the floo letting people know where we are."

"We could bring our gear along," Owen offered.

"You guys will NOT be playing 'happy birthday', or so help me it'll be the last thing you play," Harry vowed.

"Err… right."

"And just beware, dad will be all over you guys… fascination with everything Muggle and so on," Ron warned. That got a snicker from Harry.

Once they had finished lunch, Harry sent Ron to collect the trunk from Grimmauld Place and floo to the Burrow with it. They decided it best he place it in his room, so to be out of the way.

Ron returned a few minutes later through the hatch, then used the floo so his arrival wouldn't startle his sister or his parents. It also gave him the opportunity to make sure there were no unwelcome visitors at the Burrow, although he did have full faith in his parents' word. Ron quickly returned to the trunk, and let everyone know it was fine.

"Great. Let's go, then. Matt… hold on to me this time and don't move until we're done… well… moving," Harry instructed, "Owen go with Ron, Justin with Hermione, and…"

"I'll take Patrick," offered George.

"Same rules, guys. Don't let go or move until you're pushed out of the grate, and you won't land on your arse. Ready?"

"Yeah, guess so," answered Matt. Harry nodded, and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the container beside the fireplace. He flicked it into the fire, causing it to turn a brilliant green. "The Burrow!" He called out, and dragged Matt into the flames with him. They vanished.

Even with the careful explanation, the pair still ended up being ejected from the floo to skid across the floor in a heap. Harry silently cursed himself, since it had been he who had moved, rather than his passenger.

"So… much… for not moving…" Matt managed, and fell into a sneezing fit, from the soot he had managed to inhale. He suddenly found himself hoisted back onto his feet. "Scourgify!" someone had spoken, and the ash had vanished from his clothes.

"Harry!?" A middle-aged, plump woman with a kind face and red hair had seized his friend in a tight hug. "How are you dear? Happy birthday!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley… now if… I can breathe…" Harry managed. Just then, the floo fired again, and Ron emerged from it with Owen in tow. Molly broke her bone-crunching embrace, to stare at the second stranger who now stood in her kitchen. Ron only pulled Owen off to the side, as the floo fired yet again, expelling Hermione and Justin. They, in turn, stepped aside, as the floo fired once again, this time emitting George and Patrick. They too shifted away from the floo, as it fired one final time, and Fred stepped out.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, where've you been hiding everyone?" Arthur questioned, although Harry knew he was kidding.

"I'll explain in a moment. First. My new friends. This is Matt, Owen, Justin, and Patrick," Harry introduced. "Guys, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, call me Molly, dears."

"And you can call me Arthur." A round of hand-shakes ensued.

"Come have a seat, then," said Molly, "Has everyone had lunch already?"

"Already covered," answered Harry, "We ate just before we floo'ed in."

"You're eating well, then?" questioned Molly, as Harry took a seat at the table. Matt quickly followed, occupying the seat beside him. The others filled in after.

"Harry, where have you been?" Molly questioned, "Albus has the Order scrambling and has since the dreadful incident at your relatives'."

"I'm sure he has, Mrs. Weasley," answered Harry, "But if I'm gonna tell you, I need a wizards' oath from the both of you that what I reveal here won't get back to him."

"A wizard's oath? What on earth for? Surely—" Arthur began, but Harry held up a hand. "I know I can trust you guys, but there are some things that aren't covered by trust. You both know Dumbledore is a powerful legilimens, right?" Both Molly and Arthur nodded. "So how long do you think my secrets will stay secrets?"

"Point conceded," said Arthur, drawing his wand. "I, Arthur Weasley, swear on my magic, that I shall not reveal anything about to be revealed to me by one Harry Potter. So mote it be."

"So mote it be," said Harry, and the golden strand of magic buried itself in his chest. Once Molly had done the same, Harry said, "If you were to go up to Ron's bedroom right now, you would find a second trunk resting where mine ordinarily would when I've spent time here. I've replaced my old school trunk with one far more useful."

"Useful… bleedin' Christ, he's got a whole flat in there," Owen muttered.

"Is that so?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Well, then. That would explain your disappearance, then!"

"Sirius knows about it, as does Snape. But otherwise, you guys are the first outside members of the Order that know about it."

"Snape? Why would you allow him—" Molly began, clearly unnerved at the idea.

"If you'll let me explain fully. Better yet. I can share memories with you, it'll take less time, as I'd like to spend my afternoon doing something less stressful."

Harry did exactly the same thing with Molly and Arthur as he had done with Fred, sharing a lengthy stream of memories, covering both his 'future', and his recent incursion into a parallel universe. He then sat back, allowing them to absorb and think about it, something which seemed to take longer than when he had done it with Fred.

"Oh, Harry…" Molly finally managed, and looked as if she wanted to swallow the boy in a massive hug. Harry only smiled grimly, gesturing to himself, and restoring his 'older' appearance. "This is what I truly look like."

"Now we understand why you aren't all that anxious to speak with Dumbledore," said Arthur. Both he and Molly were startled by Harry's drastic change in appearance.

"But as I said, he can't keep away from him forever, he will have to face him sooner or later," Hermione interjected. Harry nodded, saying, "And like I said before, I know that. Thing is, I want that meeting to be on my terms, not his. I'm 27 today, not 15. But most of you at this table know Dumbledore won't ever see it that way."

"You see him as a threat, then?" questioned Arthur.

"NO! No, definitely not," answered Harry, a little more sharply than intended, then, "He's got his own agenda. Lots of things that involve me, but definitely his own agenda. I need him as an ally, not someone who's gonna meddle with things, keep secrets from me. That's how people get killed, and incorrect conclusions made. You all saw how Snape killed him. I thought for certain Snape was purely evil… a totally wrong assumption, but all the same, that's how I looked at him. I know that couldn't be anywhere near the truth, and I've told him so."

"But Harry…"

"I trust him. He did his best to keep the school safe when Death Eaters roamed the halls for a number of years. Only when Voldemort was down to his last Horcrux, did I finally understand his real motives and his true allegiance. I didn't share any of that with you guys, because it's not my story. It's Snape's—although you'll be very lucky should you ever get him to tell it." Just then, the floo fired, and a head appeared in the flames. "Harry?"

"Jiro," said Harry, then turning back around, "Mrs. Weasley, there's two others in my trunk. Is it okay if they come through?"

"Yes, of course, dear."

"Great. Bring Zack as well."

"Be right there." Jiro's head vanished. Moments later, the flames roared to life a second time, and two men stepped out of the fire. Both looked much like the other new faces Harry had introduced.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, this is Jiro and Zachariah Kane," Harry introduced, "Jiro and Zack, this is Molly and Arthur Weasley."

"We know," said Jiro, taking the final seat at the table. He shifted several moments, as his close proximity to Matt was making him uncomfortable. Zachariah stood directly behind him. Molly looked at the guy quizzically, then it dawned on her.

"Yeah, we're bonded," said Zachariah, catching Molly's glance.

"Oh, I don't have an issue with it," said Molly, "For how long?"

"Three years, ma'am," answered Jiro, then to Harry, "Happy birthday."

"Thanks. Yes, the reason we're here. Ron suggested we go flying this afternoon, make use to the Quidditch pitch."

"I think that will be all right," said Arthur, "Molly and Ginerva do plan on making a cake for you at least."

"Don't go out of your way."

"Oh, it's not a bother, Harry."

"Not that I could ever turn down any of your cooking, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, standing. That got a bright smile from Molly. Harry went over to the floo, and activated it. He stepped into the fire, stating, "Harry Potter's trunk!" and vanished.

He returned about a minute later, with Sirius in tow.

"And how long have you known about this, Sirius?" questioned Molly.

"Since the second day of summer vacation," answered Sirius. "I was just about to come through, when Harry come back."

"If I'm gonna go flying, I need something to ride, right?" He had his Firebolt gripped in his right hand.

"So… you truly fly that," said Owen, gesturing to it.

"Harry's a great flier, youngest seeker in a century," Ron piped up.

"Only beaten once to the snitch," said Fred.

"By his boyfriend nonetheless," George added.

"Guys! That was an accident. Had it not been for the Dementors, that wouldn't have happened! Come on, let's go outside." It was clear the mention of Cedric had not helped any.

"If flying's the plan this afternoon… I'll be right back," said Jiro, standing. 'Of course he'd have a broom of his own,' thought Harry, as he left the house.

"If we knew where… we could set up our equipment," said Justin, as he followed.

"Speak to mum," suggested Ron.

"What sort of equipment?" inquired Arthur.

"We play music."

"Really?"

"Err… their music is—" Harry began, but Ron cut across him, "Wicked!"

"Later, guys," said Harry, "Come watch us play." He held the broom level, and straddled it, getting curious looks from Justin, Owen, and Patrick.

Harry was surprised feeling a sudden weight on the back. "Err…"

"So… how fast can you go?" Matt questioned, slinging his feet up in the stirrups beside Harry's. His band mates were muttering in protest, but Matt had tuned them out.

"You really wanna find out?"

"You ever rode a rollercoaster?"

"Err… no. Hold on," Harry warned, as they rose in the air. Matt wrapped his arms around Harry's midsection as they did so. Another sharp movement, and the broom shot forward, rapidly gaining speed.

"How fast can it go?"

"About 150 miles an hour," answered Harry, having to almost shout to be heard.

"Damn."

"Sirius bought it for my when my old broom got wrecked… like Fred and George said, the only time I ever lost a game."

"This 'Quidditch'… it's a sport then."

"Yeah. C'mon, that's what the others are doing," said Harry, pointing to a fenced-off area not far from the house. Sure enough, the rest of the Weasley kids present—including Ginny—were already mounting brooms of their own. Harry aimed the broom in that direction, and stopped just over the small pitch.

"Let me off, then," said Matt.

"Actually…" Harry smirked, "No. Better to see from the air, I think."

"…"

"What… scared?"

"No." Just then, Ron had floated up to them on his own broom. "You gonna play with a passenger?"

"Yeah, thought I would," Harry smirked.

"Mental…" said Ron, as he zoomed off.

"Knew you'd turn up eventually, Potter." Harry spun to find Bill floating alongside his opposite side. He almost lost control of the broom.

"Harry… don't lose it on me here," said Matt, reminding him he had a passenger.

"Bill! Where… what…"

"I happened to floo home for a late lunch and a visit with mum, of course." The eldest Weasley flicked his pony tail back where it belonged.

"Bill… I didn't… Merlin's balls…"

"Why are you avoiding the headmaster? And bloody hell what's happened to you?" he gestured at Harry's changed appearance.

"It's a long story. One I'm not ready to share with a number of people just now."

"And am I included in that?"

"If you can't keep a secret, then yes. I need a wizard's oath from you, just like I've asked from your parents." Bill only nodded, and without hesitation, gave a wizard's oath much like his parents had.

"Great. See, that's why I love your family so much, Bill. I don't like going around Dumbledore, but sometimes…"

"He needs to keep his meddling hands to himself?" Bill finished.

"Exactly. So you guys all understand what I mean. They all mean well, but… as you can see, I'm by no means a boy, never have been. I turn 27 today, not 15."

"Ah. The picture becomes a little clearer."

"Oi! Are we gonna play or what?!" came Fred's voice from below them.

"I'll explain everything later, okay? There's a few things you need to know in addition as it is," said Harry.

"I would gather your passenger is included in that?"

"Yes… for now, Bill, this is Matt Tyson. Matt, this is Bill… I've told you about him."

"Pleasure," said Bill, as they shook hands.

They played Quidditch for a good portion of the afternoon, with Hermione and Matt's band mates watching. There weren't enough people to form proper teams, even with Bill's arrival. They made do, having only one keeper, and no bludgers. Ginny decided she would play seeker as well, and she was no slouch, giving Harry a run for his money. They finally called it quits, seeing Molly and Arthur setting up several tables near the garden. Harry and Matt set down not far from the other members of the band.

"Did you guys speak with Molly?" questioned Harry.

"No," said Owen.

"Now's a good time, she's setting things up—really hope she's not going overboard."

"Why do you hate your birthday, mate?" questioned Justin.

"Voldemort terrorized me eight out of eleven years in my future."

"Oh."

"Not exactly nice memories," said Harry, dismounting the broom. "Matt… shift ahead a bit."

"What for?"

"I'll teach you how to fly it. I mean, after all, any self-respecting wizard should know how to fly a broom." That got a few sniggers from his band mates.

"Very funny…" Matt muttered, shifting ahead so Harry could climb on behind. "Guys… go see where we can set up."

"Set up what?" Bill was again hovering only a few feet away on his broom.

"They're a Muggle heavy metal band," Harry supplied, as the others made off for the tables near the garden.

"Really?"

"Unlikely you'd know them… they're from another world." Bill arched an eyebrow at this, and said, "I take it that will be part of your explanation?"

"Yeah. Right. Okay. To get us in the air, you do this…" Harry adjusted Matt's hands to the right spot on the broom, and pulled up. They quickly rose into the air, and Harry put his feet in the stirrups. Bill followed.

"Now… getting us moving is like this…" Harry again adjusted the position of Matt's hands. "Now lean forward… not too fast!" The broom had lurched forward. "The more aggressively you do that—"

"The faster we go?"

"Right. Lean back…"

"And we slow down."

"Exactly… perfect pace. Now… slowly lean left… exactly. That's how we turn. And to the right…"

"Blimey, Harry, you could probably replace Madam Hooch," said Bill.

"Not likely."

"Who's that?" questioned Matt.

"Flying instructor at Hogwarts. She also referees our Quidditch matches," answered Harry. "Right. The thing to remember, is the more aggressively you move on the broom, the more aggressively it will respond."

"So if I do this…" Matt leaned forward aggressively. They were gone like a shot, and he felt Harry tighten his grip around his midsection.

For Harry, it had to be one of the scariest broom rides he had ever been on, as Matt pushed the Firebolt to its limits, engaging in a series of steep climbs and dives. He could have swore the guy had done at least one loop-the-loop. Maybe he was only imagining it… although they had rolled completely over and back at least six times.

They finally come to a stop just short of the tables. Most of the others had gathered to watch the 'show', and at least a few were less than impressed.

"Err…"

"Well, you said you'd not been on a rollercoaster before," said Matt, with a shrug.

"Bloody hell, I think I left my shadow somewhere up there," said Harry, shaking his head.

"You should see how he drives, mate," Owen piped up.

"Still, it's no excuse, Mr. Tyson!" Hermione huffed, "You could have been killed! Harry could have been killed!"

"Hermione's right. Harry's important to our world. Doing things such as that… oh Merlin," said Molly, equally appalled at what she had just witnessed.

"Oh come off it! The last thing the guy needs is to be coddled, for fuck's sake!" Matt snorted, reaching back to his back pocket for his cigarettes. That was almost as good as sex! Harry had shifted back to give him more room. "Thanks."

"I thought that was wicked," Ron threw in, "I mean, first time in control of a broom and all!"

"Ron, it's not funny! Harry could have been killed!" Hermione huffed, as Matt lit his smoke and took a drag.

"It was scary as hell, but I liked it," answered Harry, with a shrug, "I actually needed that." Molly was mortified by that comment. Never mind Matt's appalling language…

"Yes, I must agree with Molly on that, Harry." They boy-become-man swung the broom around, causing Matt to almost drop his smoke with the abrupt movement. Sure enough, one of the last people he wanted to see that day was standing a short distance away, having come out of the house. Dumbledore was joined by Snape, McGonagall, Tonks, Remus, and Moody.

"Happy birthday, Harry," spoke Remus.

"Thanks, I guess," said Harry.

"Indeed, happy birthday, Harry," said Dumbledore, "You've been most difficult to locate."

"I've had my reasons, sir," answered Harry, "Voldemort regaining his body –again— is one of those."

"Yes, and being out in the open such as you are right now is inviting trouble," spoke Moody.

"So you'd have me locked up at Grimmauld Place, kept in the dark about things instead?"

"We're only looking out for your safety, Harry," spoke Tonks.

"Yes, and we know how long it would be before he goes spare," said Sirius, who had stepped out of the house bringing a plate of snacks.

"Matt… here. I'd say be careful, but… just don't kill yourself," said Harry, dismounting. Matt only smirked, and was gone like a shot.

"Allowing a Muggle to fly a broom? Oh dear," said McGonagall, pursing her lips.

"Indeed, how is it a group of Muggles have found their way here?" inquired Dumbledore.

"Because they're a few very close friends now," answered Harry, curtly, "Professor, there's a bunch of things you don't know just now… and frankly I wasn't ready to tell you. Now since you're here… I can't exactly avoid it… Kreacher?!" Harry called. The elf popped in front of him.

"Harry call for Kreacher?" questioned the elf.

"Could you retrieve my pensieve for me?"

"Kreacher is fetching it right away!" the elf bowed low and vanished.

"Like everyone else up to this point, I need a wizard's oath from all of you that whatever I'm about to share remains a secret… Professor Snape excluded, I already have his oath."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Severus already knew Harry's secrets? Dumbledore nodded to the Order members with him, and each of them gave their oaths of secrecy.

"Just maybe this won't be as painful as I expected," said Harry, as Kreacher reappeared bringing the pensieve.

"Shit," Harry cursed. The small vial he needed containing the memory was still in his room—Kreacher wouldn't know where that was. "I'll be right back." He twisted on the spot, and vanished with a slight POP.

"How long has he known how to apparate?" inquired Moody.

"I've no clue," answered Sirius, with a shrug, "It's something he hasn't explained."

Meanwhile, Harry quickly located the required vial—it had been stowed in his potions stores, but out of sight. Stepping back into the common room, he quickly added the list of names who now knew of Harry's secret to the floo. No sense in keeping them out at this point, he decided. He had no clue how vital that decision would be. He apparated back out to the yard, where everyone was still gathered.

"How long have you been able to apparate, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore.

"About eleven years, professor," answered Harry, as he uncorked the vial.

"HARRY!" He looked up to see Matt, pointing at something near the Quidditch pitch: two dark shapes—Death Eaters. They had just crossed the outer edge of the property.

"Shit! Death Eaters!" Harry snapped, drawing his wand, and re-corking the vial. He'd barely done so, when a number of dark shapes popped in with clouds of black smoke.

"Jiro, Fred, George! Get the guys back into the trunk now! --DO IT!" he shouted, seeing them rooted to the spot. A red bolt of magic forced Harry to duck, while Moody answered with a red bolt of his own.

"Professor! My trunk! It's here, you can floo into it! Harry Potter's trunk! All of you have access, now go now—REDUCTO!" he shouted, sending another red blast of magic at a hooded figure. He got an answer back in an angry burst of purple magic, along with two streaks of red. He barely avoided the three curses.

"Potter, it's you that needs to get out of here!" Moody snarled, sending a flurry of curses toward an opponent of his own.

"And leave you here!?" he shouted back, 'bloody hell… that fucking doppelganger charm… if only it worked!'

"You were saying?" he blinked, seeing an identical copy of himself standing before him. "Now get out of here." The clone had no sooner said it, than he felt a hand grip him about the shirt collar and sling him over the handle of a broom. They took off. "Thought you couldn't do that yet," said Matt.

"So did I," Harry breathed, as the battle fell away from them. Matt slid back, and helped Harry to sit properly. "Once again, a life-saver, I think."

A bolt of green magic missing them by only feet reminded him they were very much still involved in the fight. Harry pressed down on the broom, making a track for the Quidditch pitch.

"Shit… Harry, one of them's got a broom," Matt warned.

"Hang on!" He leaned forward aggressively, and the broom shot forward. "They must've raided the broom shed," Harry guessed, "Their brooms aren't all that good—don't ever tell them I said that."

"LEFT!" Matt suddenly yelled, and Harry leaned the broom left. Good thing, as another green bolt of magic barely missed them to their right. He had to just as quickly lean right, as the attacker sent another curse their way.

"Impedimenta!" Harry shouted, thrusting his wand blindly behind him. The hex missed wildly, and the attacker answered with another green bolt of magic.

"Fuck, they just set the house on fire," said Matt.

"The trunk… shit, we have to go back."

"Land and apparate," Matt suggested.

"Hang on," Harry warned, pulling into a steep dive toward a thicket of trees a short distance ahead. "Get ready to jump off."

"What?!"

"Trust me."

They blasted through the canopy at nearly sixty miles an hour, and Matt knew he was going to have more than a few nasty scratches on his arm… the broom came to an abrupt stop, and both dismounted rather roughly. Harry gripped Matt by the arm with one hand, his broom with the other, and they vanished with a noisy CRACK.

They reappeared in Ron's bedroom, and the smoke was already thick in the air. He gestured with a hand, while yanking the lid of his trunk open, tossing most of the contents of his best friend's room into it—it would be a messy clean-up, but better than his best mate losing everything. If only he could do that with the rest of the house. That done, he slammed the lid shut, miniaturized it, again grabbed Matt by the shoulder, and they popped away. Unknown to either of them, Matt had been tagged with a tracking charm.

They appeared in the front yard of Cedric's house.

"I was planning to come here anyway," said Harry, "C'mon." They walked up to the door and knocked. It opened a few moments after. "Mr. Potter… oh dear," said Mrs. Diggory, seeing their dishevelled appearance. "What's happened?"

"Death Eaters attacked the Burrow," answered Harry, darkly.

"Oh my… do come in."

"Thanks," said Harry, "Dumbledore and the Order are there… I better use the floo and let the ministry know."

"You know where it is, dear."

Moments later, he was in front of the fire. He stuck his head in the flames, and found himself looking into the office of the department head for Magical Law Enforcement. Exactly who he'd hoped to connect with.

"Madam Bones?"

"Mr. Potter! What… how can I help you?"

"Death Eaters… attacking the Burrow. Dumbledore's there… but they need backup."

"You're sure of this?" The middle-aged witch pursed her lips. She was still unsure of exactly what to believe when it came to the stories of the Dark Lord's return.

"Positive… they set fire to the house… don't know if anyone's been killed."

"I'll send Aurors out at once."

Harry pulled his head back out of the fire. "Good. Got in touch with Madam Bones… no nonsense witch she is. Hold still." Harry gestured at the nasty scratches on Matt's arms. "Episkey."

"Thanks. What now?"

"Nothing we can do for now. I'll see whatever happened from the eyes of my clone, later."

"Your clone?" Mrs. Diggory questioned.

"Some very advanced magic," answered Harry, "Since we're here…"

"Oh, yes, of course." They were then led into Cedric's room, where the boy still lay in complete stasis.

"Happy fucking birthday," Harry muttered, once again occupying his usual seat.

"How did they know you were there, though?" questioned Matt, "Someone had to say something."

"Yeah, my question exactly. How did Dumbledore know I was there, never mind Death Eaters."

Suddenly, Harry felt a rush of memories flood his mind, ending with a flash of green light.

"Shit. My clone just 'died'," Harry muttered, rubbing his temple. He looked over at Matt, who had winced. "Ow."

"What… you felt it?"

"Yeah, you could say that." He was rubbing his chest. "Felt like… well… like something stabbed me in the heart." Harry arched an eyebrow. The blood bond was stronger than he had thought. Now everything fit. Whether Matt realized it or not, he was truly bound to Harry in so many ways.

A sudden, loud crash broke Harry out of his thoughts.

"Mrs. Diggory… where's your husband?"

"At work."

"Right. We've got company." He stood up, once again brandishing his wand. He retrieved his trunk, and re-enlarged it, just as a second crash came, the sound of a door being blasted apart. They had but seconds. Harry yanked the lid open. "Mrs. Diggory, get in…"

"Why… what's in there—oh!" Cedric's mother realized at once what Harry's trunk actually was.

"I'll bring Cedric."

"Of course!" Cedric's mother again realized the plan, and wasted no time climbing into the trunk. Another crash rang out somewhere in the house, while Harry grabbed Cedric by the hand, and Matt by his arm, and vanished with a loud POP.

They appeared in the common room of the trunk, amidst a crowd.

"What's the meaning of this, Potter?" demanded Moody.

"Guys! It's not over yet!" He cursed, and popped away again. A moment later, the lid slammed shut.

Meanwhile, Harry again shrunk down the trunk, pocketed it, grabbed his broom, and disapparated, deciding to for now, return to Grimmauld Place. The trunk was re-enlarged, and stowed in Regulus' room, as it had been that morning. Another birthday cluster-fuck, and it was far from over. Then, something else dawned on him: the Lovegoods lived in the area too. He popped back into the trunk.

Ignoring the demands and questions around him, Harry knelt in front of the fire with a pinch of floo powder. "Fire call the Lovegood residence!" He then stuck his head into the fire, and found himself staring into the rather cluttered and dis-jointed kitchen of the eccentric editor for the Quibbler.

"Oh, hello, Harry Potter," said Luna, kneeling at the grate.

"Luna… the Burrow and the Diggorys were just attacked by Death Eaters. You guys might be in danger!"

"Oh, there's no Death Eaters here, Harry," answered Luna, dreamily.

"There might be. Is your father around?"

"He's running the press right now."

"Look. If you think you're in danger… use the floo and come to my trunk."

"What are you doing inside a trunk, Harry? The knock-chordals might get you in there."

"The what—never mind… just… the floo address is 'Harry Potter's trunk'. Promise you'll floo here if you're in danger. Both you and your father."

"Okay, Harry." Harry pulled his head out of the fire. He gestured at the fireplace, saying, "Addendum, Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood." The fireplace turned green for a moment. He then said, "Molly, Arthur. I'll help you guys rebuild."

"That's not necessary—" Arthur began, but Harry held up a hand. "No, it is. It's my fault they were there. I still don't know how, but. Let me help you guys."

"Where are we now, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore.

"Welcome to my trunk. I've had it since the second day of hols. It's allowed me to have perhaps a bit of normalcy—although that's been few and far between."

"We put Cedric in your room, Harry," said Ron.

"He can have my bed if he wants, since I'm not using it," Matt suggested.

"Great. We'll have to make more permanent arrangements, but that'll do for now. Let's go into the study where it's a bit more comfortable."

Once everyone had taken seats in the study, some of which ending up occupying the couches in front of the fire, Harry said, "Professor Snape. We need a few calming draughts, I think. Do you mind?" Snape only inclined his head, and left the room.

"And how long has Professor Snape known of your 'arrangement' here, Potter?" inquired Professor McGonagall.

"The day I disappeared," answered Harry, "I'll explain once professor Snape comes back. I'll also tell you the fireplace in here is also connected to the floo. It's 'Harry Potter's Trunk, study'. Pretty simple."

"Yes, too simple," Moody noted, "You should be a little more original than that, Potter."

"Not one of my top priorities, Mad-eye," answered Harry, "I've barely had a chance to breathe since the beginning of the holidays. It's been one calamity after another, and I've barely been able to take care of anything on my agenda."

"What sort of agenda?" questioned Dumbledore.

"Again, I'll get to that. Although, sir, I do have a question. Do you think I've been keeping myself safe, considering this is where I've been most of the time thus far?"

"It would depend on where your trunk actually is, Harry."

"Up until the attack at the Dursleys a few days ago, it was there, in my room."

"And where are we now?"

"Back at Grimmauld Place, which is where I put the trunk when I realized aunt Petunia's was no longer safe. You are still keeping an eye on them?"

"They are your relatives, Harry. of course we are," answered Dumbledore.

"Good. As much as we don't get along, they ARE my relatives, my blood. Although I think we all agree, I can never live there again."

"No, Harry, I daresay you can't," answered Dumbledore, "The wards collapsed minutes before the attack."

"Ah. That would explain it," said Harry, nodding.

"Well, you did leave the trunk while looking like that," Matt pointed out.

"Yes, about that most startling glamour, Potter," said McGonagall.

"Right." Harry gestured at himself, restoring his more familiar 15-year-old appearance. "Better?"

"Wandless magic?" Remus arched an eyebrow.

"You will all be quite amazed at what my godson is capable of," said Sirius, with a smirk.

"Now the pieces fit," said Dumbledore, "Harry, how old are you?"

"I turned 27 today," answered Harry, "Did someone manage to grab my pensieve?"

"Yes, I did," said Molly, "Kreacher put it away again."

"Okay." Harry again summoned the elf, and had him retrieve the pensieve. Just then, Snape stepped back into the room, depositing a bunch of bottles on the table. Numerous hands reached out for one.

"Thanks, professor," said Harry, then asked, "Was anyone killed?"

"One Auror. Tonks is in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, Poppy is tending to her but she should make a full recovery," said Remus, looking unsettled. Of course, that could be said about the majority of those present.

"Remus. Go be with her," said Harry, "I'll share this stuff with you and Tonks later."

"What?" Remus looked at Harry, but it quickly dawned on him. He was gone through the floo in a heartbeat.

"Most of the injuries we were able to heal quickly. One Death Eater was captured and is now on the way to a holding cell at the ministry," continued Moody, "McNair, it was."

"Good. Vicious Death Eater. Should just pitch them all through the veil and be done with 'em," Harry muttered, once again uncorking the vial.

"But Harry, what would that solve? It would make us no better than Voldemort or his Death Eaters," said Dumbledore.

"Maybe, maybe not," answered Harry, with a shrug, "At least it would put a stop to the revolving door that is Azkaban. Voldemort will in the near future, break out ten high-profile Death Eaters from the place, early winter at the latest."

"How do you know this?" questioned Moody. Harry only responded by dumping the contents of the vial into the pensieve. "Those of you who haven't seen this, stick a finger in. I warn you all, it's not pleasant, but it explains much."

While Dumbledore and the Order members viewed the memories, Harry leaned back in his chair. Another birthday, another disaster. Two displaced families now… what the hell was he supposed to do about that? "Mr. Weasley… you might want to floo Mr. Diggory and let him know what's happened… I'd rather him not floo home to a trap."

"What did happen, dear?" inquired Molly.

"Death Eaters. They somehow followed us to Cedric's," answered Harry. Just then, Luna walked into the room looking a little out of sorts. Her father entered a moment later.

"Luna… Mr. Lovegood, you guys all right?" questioned Harry.

"Quite all right, yes," answered Xenophilius, "Thank you for alerting us of the possible danger."

"Three Wizarding families attacked… because of me," whispered Harry, "Happy fucking birthday."

"You can't blame yourself, mate," said Matt, "Holy fuck, I think you know that!"

"But… just everywhere I go, it just brings chaos. I mean, you guys have had your lives turned upside-down. Why? Because of ME!! The people I come to know as a family… their home fucking DESTROYED! Why?! Because of ME!! My boyfriend… fucked three ways from Sunday. Why?"

"Harry that's not fair," Hermione protested, "You can't blame yourself for that!"

"Why not?! It's the truth, isn't it?!" Harry stormed, "Just about everyone here now, they've been screwed over because of me or something 'I' did!"

"What would Cedric say if he heard that?" Hermione challenged. That got a stormy look from Harry. Oops, wrong thing to say. He slammed his chair back from the table, and stormed from the room.

"And I thought 'I' suffered from foot-in-mouth disease. Nice going, Granger," Jiro muttered.

Harry flew into his bedroom, and stopped short. Mrs. Diggory was sitting beside the spare bed he had set up for Matt. Cedric now occupied said bed, still looking as pale as ever. She looked up, hearing his less-than-quiet entrance. "Everything all right, Mr. Potter?"

"Err… fine. I'm fine," answered Harry, curtly. He flopped down on his own bed, deciding to use this time to sort through the maze of painful memories that now flooded his mind. The use of a pensieve might come in handy later, he decided.

"What's happened, son?" inquired James, from his portrait.

"Bad things, dad… bad things," Harry sighed. His parents realized at once this was probably not the best time to pump him for information.

It was truly a mess. The day had started so well! Yet, as had been the case so many times over, his birthday had turned into a day better forgotten. Three Wizarding families were now uprooted in some way. The Weasleys had lost everything they owned, and being in such dire straits financially as it was, they would never be able to replace any of it… at least not without help. The Diggorys… his boyfriend… they had likely lost their home as well, and as far as Harry knew, they weren't exactly well off either. Luna and her father… he would have to speak with them later, and find out what sort of damage had been done. Either way, it would be a lot of money coming out of his vault to fix things.

Looking through the memories of flying with Matt, something occurred to him: the guy had changed somehow. His actions that afternoon were with one goal in mind: to somehow impress him. Harry let a smirk form on his lips. Oh yes, the guy more than liked him, that was clear as day at this point. He just didn't know it himself. Muggle rollercoaster indeed! Hermione had tried to explain it to him once, and he sort of got it. What Matt had done on the broom was almost exactly like the description. Never mind the fear he'd seen in the man's eyes as he warned of the approaching Death Eaters. That fear had been for Harry, no mistaking it. This was a man at war with his own feelings, his own emotions. Which side would win? His heart, or his mind?

His thoughts returned to the ensuing battle. As quick as it had started, it was over for him. Once again, Matt had just acted, dragging him onto the broom and flying away. In some ways it might have been cowardly, but his clone had taken care of things up to a point… his clone? Another smirk crossed his face, as he realized what had happened. He hadn't even made the wand movements, nor the incantation! 'Shall we try it again, then?' he smirked to himself.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So once again, Voldemort has made his presence felt. Some of you might find it a bit much, but remember, Harry's changed the timeline so dramatically at the beginning, and now things are starting to be felt. Also, Tom did not make a personal appearance at the Burrow, only a few of his Death Eaters._


	17. Harry's Matty'

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __Thenchick, D.J.J.L.D.H.B.'M-PC'7th STEVE, and zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_CAUTION: Coarse language, boy-kissing(!)__, alcohol use._

_To date, this is the longest chapter I have produced for "Temporal Boundary Invasions", and for ANY story I've written, for that matter, weighing in at 42 pages in MS Word. Yet, it was with good reason, as it does lean toward character development and so on._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XVI-**  
"**HARRY'S MATTY"**

**or, Matt realizes something he's known for some time**

**

* * *

**The Order members, including Dumbledore, were still in the pensieve, when Harry stepped into the room.

"All right there, mate?" questioned Ron.

"Fine, just fine," said Harry, reclaiming the seat he had occupied sometime before. He turned to Matt, saying, "Thanks for looking out for me." Matt only nodded, taking a sip from a butter beer he was nursing. There was a small tub of ice at the centre of the table with a number of them. Harry reached over, and took one. "Tempus." '5:03' wafted from his right index finger. "We'll need to make arrangements for dinner…"

"Kreacher already asked, Harry," said Sirius, "I've also called Dobby and Winky to help out here, I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's great, thanks."

"Luna and her father, as well as Mrs. Diggory can all stay at my place," said Sirius, "I do still have a fair bit of room, and they may not appreciate being cooped up in your trunk, as nice as it is."

"Good, that works out then."

Just then, people started to return from the pensieve, beginning with Dumbledore. It was clear he had been most disturbed by what he had just witnessed. "Harry… you wonderful… wonderful man," he breathed. There were no tear tracks on his face, but his eyes shone with them. "I am truly sorry… sorry you had to endure such hardship… to have to forge ahead alone for so long."

"But I did it, professor… I kind of hope… that this time, you'll stick around."

"If you'll accept an old man's apology."

"Sir, there are only two wizards Riddle is truly afraid of: you, and me. I need all of your help… I may be the one to cast the final curse, but I need all the help I can get to make it there."

"That means no more secrets, Albus," said Sirius, "Harry has a right to know everything that's going on."

"Yes, quite right. I daresay, he's far outgrown that."

"And he is more than capable of KEEPING those secrets," said Snape.

"Indeed?"

"I was forced to learn Occlumency rather quickly after a few particularly violent attacks."

"A most startling glimpse into an alternate universe, Potter," spoke Moody, "How far into the future were they?"

"2006," answered Matt.

"And Voldemort held control since when?" inquired Dumbledore.

"1994," answered Jiro, "The year of the tri-wizard tournament. He killed Harry and Cedric both… at least that's what we heard. No one was ever able to get anything concrete. But neither of them were seen again."

"I am still confused as to why these four are still here," said McGonagall, "Being Muggles, why would you bring them with you?"

"Err… it was my fault," Matt explained, "I thought I could help by well… I threw my jackknife at you-know-who… while Harry was fighting him." That drew a few surprised looks from the new faces at the table.

"Either very brave… or very stupid," Snape sneered, "Perhaps a combination of both. You've been spending too much time around Gryffindors."

"Yeah, so needless to say, they were all dead men walking," said Jiro, "You-know-who would've had fun with all of them, I'm sure."

"Indeed," Snape sneered again.

"We decided it would be better to chance it with Harry, rather than… yeah…" Matt fell silent.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything." Heads turned to see a second Harry standing in the doorway. Some actually drew their wands, startled by the doppelganger. Luna, however, didn't miss a beat. "Hello, Harry."

"What… how… there's two… how come there's two Harry's?" Ron sputtered, head twisting wildly between the two 'copies'. Moody's eye was spinning wildly, while Dumbledore only sat back, his eyes twinkling madly.

"So… has my twin been entertaining?" Harry grinned, coming to stand behind his clone.

"Oh, the horror of it!" Fred exclaimed.

"We resign! We've been officially outdone!" George wailed.

"By the son of a Marauder none the less!" Fred added. Justin, Owen, and Patrick, meanwhile, were glancing back and forth in utter confusion.

"What the FUCK?!" Owen finally managed to sputter.

"If you've got this from here," said the clone, "I'll be off, then." He vanished.

"Harry… explain," Hermione demanded.

"For once, Granger, I agree," said Snape, fighting hard to keep his mask of indifference in place. The brat had actually shocked him. That was all there was to it!

"He's been studying it for a while," Matt threw in, "He almost had it a few times… but today's the first time."

"Just like in third year!" Hermione realized, "When he was learning the Patronus charm!"

"Exactly," said Harry, taking the vacated seat beside Matt. "I don't know how I made it work today, but I guess it just all clicked."

"So where were you while we were talking to your 'clone'?" inquired Dumbledore.

"Sorting through my thoughts and memories from this afternoon. I was out of sorts a while ago."

"Do you know of what transpired while your doppelganger was here?" enquired McGonagall.

"Every moment of it, although it'll take me a few moments… longer he exists, the more time it takes for me to assimilate his memories with mine."

"Some truly powerful magic, Potter," said McGonagall, with a hint of pride in her voice.

"Yeah, I agree, professor. It's one thing I was never able to do last time around… of course it didn't help the fact I was doing the wand-movements incorrectly. Which further confuses me, considering I can now do it without wand movements or speaking the spell."

"A demonstration of how powerful you truly are, kiddo," Sirius praised. Harry only nodded, continuing, "Many simple charms and spells I can do without a wand. Pretty much up to third year at this point. Anything complicated, with a few exceptions, I need my wand."

"It would almost sound like your returning to Hogwarts might be a waste of time," said McGonagall.

"No. I still need to sit my OWLs and NEWTs. With Voldemort back, I'd rather be at the school, help protect the students."

"I guess that would be the next part of the discussion. Have you located any of the Horcruxes yet, Harry?" inquired Dumbledore.

"Two of them. Slytherin's locket, and Ravenclaw's Diadem. Both of them are in a locked chest in my bedroom. My scar was a seventh Horcrux, but that was destroyed when Voldemort came back."

"So we still need the Gaunt ring, and Hufflepuff's cup," said Bill.

"And Nagini," Harry reminded, "Voldemort's familiar. Like last time, she was the last one I could never find. He kept her with him at all times near the end, once he knew I was hunting them." Just then, Dobby popped into the room, announcing enthusiastically, "Supper is being ready, it is!!" It was the first time Matt got a good look at another house elf. This one was indeed a bit of a contrast to Kreacher, appearing considerably younger, and his ears less bat-like. Large, tennis-ball sized eyes, and his demeanour. It radiated energy, and perhaps, steadfast loyalty to Harry.

"Thanks, Dobby," said Harry, "Right. Let's take this into the dining room, then." The elf nodded enthusiastically, and vanished with a POP.

Supper ended up a rather noisy affair, with the seemingly double head count at the dining table. In fact, it was split into two separate tables. Even so, Harry continued explaining and answering questions throughout the meal.

During a lull in the conversation, Harry leaned over, and whispered something in Bill's ear. The eldest Weasley's eyes got quite large, but he only nodded, looking Harry in the eye. The contact lasted for about a minute.

"Well… ahem… right then," Bill managed, feeling his face flush. He knew it was turning quite red, considering what Harry had just shared with him.

"Well?" questioned Harry. Bill only responded by grabbing Harry by the shirt, and locking lips with his, causing several guffaws and throat-clearing around the table.

"Err…" Ron managed, as they finally came up for air. Although Harry had certainly mentioned his relationship with Ron's older brother, it was quite another thing to actually see it manifest, after all!

"Honestly, Harry!" Hermione chided, "At the dinner table!?"

"Well, why not?" Harry smirked. He looked over at Matt, and had to pause. Was that… jealousy?

"What would Cedric say?!" Hermione charged on, "Merlin, he'll be livid!"

"No he won't," answered Harry, "Because I've already told him about Bill."

"Woah, now there's an inevitable train wreck," said Owen, shaking his head.

"No, again… he knows… and well… needless to say, I'm quite looking forward to an inevitable threesome, rather than a train wreck," answered Harry, matter-of-factly. That got a blank look from a few people, and another confusing look from Matt.

"At least he's thinking positively," said Hermione, although still clearly not impressed with the topic of conversation.

"Seems someone might be rather put out by that suggestion, Harry," Ron sniggered.

"What?" He looked at Ron, then followed his gaze. "Err…" He pushed gently into Matt's mind, and arched an eyebrow. He was truly jealous? One way to fix that, then… Harry leaned over and whispered something in Bill's ear, getting a nod. Harry turned abruptly, grabbed Matt by the front of his shirt, pulled him close, and locked lips together rather sloppily.

Matt's eyes went wide, realizing what was actually happening. Everything in his head was screaming, 'NO! THIS IS WRONG!'. Yet, everything else answered, "This is so right." He felt every hair on his body seem to stand on end. It was as if… he had crossed a threshold, from which there was no return…

"Don't suffocate him, mate," Bill piped up, at which they at last broke, leaving Matt looking rather dazed.

"Mind, bewitched… check. Senses ensnared… check," Ron laughed, "And he didn't even use a potion!"

"That. Did. NOT. Just. Happen," Owen stammered, his eyes as big as golf balls. His band mates were in equal states of shock… and Matt… was still stuck in a haze.

"I think 'ya broke 'im, mate," Ron mumbled, shovelling another fork-full of potatoes into his mouth. Hermione was in no shape to scold him, as she herself was struck dumb by this display.

Harry, meanwhile, returned to what was left of his meal. A second peak into the guy's mind revealed no 'damage' had been done, and if anything, he'd actually liked it! No doubt about it, Matt was now more than a friend, and that opinion went in both directions. Perhaps, this wasn't such a bad birthday after all. Score double points with the number of allies he now had around him… truly powerful allies. It was pretty clear at this point, Dumbledore would be exactly that, along with the rest of the Order. It was an interesting note, those who truly mattered as far as the Order went, were now seated in his dining room.

"So does that mean there might be a foursome, instead of a threesome?" Bill inquired.

"Well… that depends," answered Harry, "I mean, once Cedric gets better, right? And Matt's… still, a… well… a non-participating third party."

"Yeah, but I'm sure Harry's working on that," Ron sniggered. Matt choked on the forkful of food he'd just stuffed into his mouth, and Owen proceeded to spray the table with a mouthful of his drink.

"My godson, the stud," said Sirius, raising his glass.

"So much for the mature adult role," Hermione muttered, blushing profusely. A most improper conversation at the supper table!

"Err… Matt… since when did you start playing that end of the pitch?" queried Justin, looking confused. He only got a shrug in return.

"Ditto," Owen muttered, looking equally confused, and perhaps slightly uncomfortable. The reactions of Matt's band mates were not lost on Harry.

"Right. So Harry," Bill began, "How did you know about me… as in, well, how did you know I liked blokes?"

"Well, the first time around it was by accident. You were seeing Fleur Delacour quite heavily, the summer before what would have been my sixth year. Anyway, one night when I was staying at the Burrow, we sort of bumped into each other. You were totally smashed—I think you'd polished off at least a couple bottles of firewhiskey. So we got talking, and one thing led to another…"

"And Fleur caught us," Bill guessed. Harry nodded. "Yep, the entire Burrow heard her yelling. Your mum thought someone was about to be murdered, I think."

"I've liked both girls and blokes, long as I can remember. I've gone out with each, and well… each has their pros and cons, so to say."

"Stay with us, then," said Harry, perhaps a little abruptly, feeling his face getting very hot.

"And now who's blushing?" Bill teased. "Of course I'll stay with you. Harry… if we've already had a history, it would be wrong for me to deny you."

"Us?" Matt squeaked. It was the first word he'd managed since Harry snogged him senseless.

"Well, yeah. What did you think, that I'm gonna toss you out of the bed like yesterday's laundry?" Harry retorted.

"I can't believe they're having this conversation," said Hermione, shaking her head.

"You and me alike," said Ron, shaking his head, trying hard to suppress a grin. Harry could only grin as well, but suddenly let out a yelp: Bill had suddenly squeezed him in the groin. He gave the offending hand a swat. "Hey!"

"If you wouldn't fondle me at the dining table—"

"Uhg!! Not another word from the three of you!" Hermione finally gasped, "Keep your hands to yourselves and…"

"Okay, then," said Harry, unsure of the source of this outburst on the part of his friend.

"Hey! I didn't do anything, Miss Granger!" Matt defended, at last able to form coherent sentences.

"But you were thinking it never mind the fact Harry just snogged you senseless and Bill senseless and—UHG!!" She said, flustered.

"Perhaps Granger might like a calming draught," Snape drawled from the other table. That got another scowl from the bushy-haired witch.

Dumbledore, throughout all this, had remained silent, seeming to focus only on his meal—at least to those who might have been observing. Yet, the ancient wizard was in fact watching all of the banter closely, and this interaction between Harry and his friends, new and old, certainly warmed him. Even with the darkness that had touched the boy, he still had deep wells of love, kindness, and compassion—exactly the kind of weapon to be used against Voldemort. Harry already knew this of course, as he had already defeated the dark wizard once. With everything he knew, there was no doubt in the headmaster's mind Harry would succeed again.

"Matt… he's got you entranced somehow!" Owen finally blurted, slamming his mug down on the table, making everyone jump, "That's not right!"

"I doubt that," answered Matt, his voice barely above a whisper. His plate, finally empty, vanished from the table, along with the silverware.

"But what else could it be!?" Patrick jumped in, "What about your girlfriend? What would she think, seeing you snogging a… a boy?!"

"Dunno, don't care," Matt answered, with a shrug.

"You've bewitched him!" Owen growled, "See?! We told you! It's twisted and evil—" Matt slammed his chair back from the table, much as Harry had done earlier, and stormed out of the room.

"You bloody fools!" Ron hissed, "Are you all truly that thick?"

"No, but what the fuck have you done to Matt?" Owen pointed an accusing finger at Harry.

"I can assure you, Mr. Heaton, Harry would never do such a thing," said Dumbledore, looking up from his now empty plate, which also promptly vanished. "There are laws against such things."

"Then why the change?" Owen demanded, "My best friend would never… he would never… let another bloke just… Jesus Christ I can't believe that!"

"I don't know… but what right do you have saying he can't?" Bill shot back, "If you're truly his friends, you'll understand. If that's what he wants, then support him, don't ride his arse about it."

"Excuse me," said Harry, standing. Bill followed as Harry left the room.

They found Matt sitting in front of the fireplace in the study, arms folded across his chest, eyes closed, silently seething. Harry could easily pick up the angry waves of energy coming from the guy. It was misplaced anger—he'd just been blind-sided by one of his best friends. Harry said nothing, but sat down beside him. Bill was quick to follow, although it made for a rather tight fit—the couch wasn't designed for three.

"Just…"

"No," answered Harry, "We don't have to talk. But don't push us away either." Matt only nodded, closing his eyes again. Harry then said, "We're gonna need a new room for Cedric. He's got the spare bed in my room—that won't work if his mum wants to be beside him day and night."

"Yeah, quite right," Bill agreed, "With the three of us… make for an awkward encounter for Mrs. Diggory. What about tonight?"

"That depends on what Matt wants to do," answered Harry, "Should he decide this is where he wants to spend the night, then so will I."

"Mhmmm," Matt mumbled, his arms slackening somewhat from their tight grip about his chest. The angry energy coming off him was also diminishing. Harry realized it would be best to stay put for the next while.

"Dobby," Harry called. The elf appeared with a light POP. "Harry Potter call for Dobby and Dobby comes, he does!"

"That's great. On the table behind me… is there any more calming draughts?"

"There is more than a few, there is!"

"Could you bring one of them over, please?"

"Dobby is fetching right away!" He pattered over to the table, plucked one of the vials from it, and returned to face Harry. "Something wrong with Harry's Matty?"

"What?" Matt mumbled, eyes blinking open.

"Harry's Matty is needing the potion, then? Dobby is giving it right away, he is!" He held out the potion, and Matt looked at it, confused for a moment, then finally took it. "Th-thank you." Dobby looked at Matt for a moment, then popped away.

"H-harry's Matty?" Matt finally managed.

"I think it's kind of cute, actually," said Bill.

"No… cute is 'Harry's Wheezy'," answered Harry, "Or 'Harry's Diggy'."

"So… they… they have nick names for all your friends?"

"Only my closest," answered Harry, with a goofy grin.

"More than closest, mate," said Bill, "The house elves are pretty smart in bonds and connections between people."

"But… oh hell what just happened a while ago?!" Matt blurted, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Only something you already knew," answered Harry, "I know what you were trying to do this afternoon… that wasn't lost on me. It's a good thing Cedric is well… never mind… just… had he seen you doing that, you would have been hexed."

"But…"

"You're still thinking with your mind, mate," said Harry, "Don't listen to logic, that doesn't work here." He put a hand over Matt's chest. "Listen to what's here… it will tell you all you need to know."

"Sounds pretty smart to me," said Bill.

"I know. 'cause it was Cedric who said that to me, when I was where… where Matt is right now."

"But… what you're asking… what you're suggesting… holy fuck this is confusing!"

"Because you make it so," answered Harry, again prodding Matt's chest, "Listen here, and it won't be."

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore, stepping into the room. "I had wished to continue our discussion, but it appears as though you have more pressing matters for the evening."

"Yeah, sorry professor. Tomorrow after lunch, then?"

"That will be fine. We'll retreat back to Grimmauld Place, then, and I shall see you tomorrow."

"And professor. My floo is always open to the Order, feel free to make yourselves welcome."

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, professor." The aged wizard left the doorway.

"Harry… any chance you could fetch us some more firewhiskey?" Matt questioned. Harry only nodded, and once again summoned Kreacher. It seemed a most fitting way to spend the evening, considering the disaster the day had become. A second thought, and his clone appeared. "Keep the others out of here for now. And do something about you-know-what." He mentally passed an image of Matt's band mates.

"Right then." The duplicate Harry left the room.

"Still find that weird you can do that," said Matt, shaking his head.

"Right useful," answered Harry, with a shrug.

* * *

"Wait a second, guys," said Harry, stepping into the dining room. Matt's band mates were about to get up. Professor McGonagall and Remus were still present, as was Sirius.

"So is he okay?" questioned Justin, uncertainly.

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm looking out for him, and so is Bill."

"And so are you… right," said Owen, catching on at once, "Clone-thing."

"I'm still astounded you can do that, Harry," said Remus.

"Me too. But that's not why I'm here right now." He turned back to Owen, Justin, and Patrick. "Why are you guys so put out by what happened at supper? You do remember what I promised you all when I first met you, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"I gave you all a wizard's oath that I'd never intentionally hurt you guys. Messing with your minds covers that. I still have my magic, right?"

"I guess," Owen conceded, "But… Jesus Christ, I've never seen him kiss another bloke before. I guess I'm just confused."

"Yeah, me too," Patrick added.

"Well, Matt's just as confused as you are. But like I said to him, you're thinking with your minds and not your hearts."

"You make it sound so simple," Owen retorted, "But it's not!"

"And why do you believe that, Mr. Heaton?" questioned McGonagall, "Surely you don't believe it wrong for two men to love each other."

"No."

"Then where is the problem?"

"It's our best friend! He can't just—"

"But why not? Again, you're thinking with your head and not your heart, Owen. I saw what that did to Matt… your reaction hurt him… a lot," said Harry, "Don't do that to him. Don't make me regret bringing you guys here."

"Yes, indeed, don't become a danger to my godson or his friends," Sirius warned, "Because, although Harry has promised not to cause you harm, that doesn't prevent me from doing so."

"Sirius…" said Remus.

"We're just confused, that's all," said Justin, "God, we'd never desert Matt! Holy fuck!"

"Make sure you tell him that, okay?" Harry got nods from all three of them. He sent a question to his original self. "Maybe come join us for a drink later." McGonagall pursed her lips at the suggestion. "What? I'm twenty-seven, professor."

"In a boy's body, nonetheless!" McGonagall reminded, sourly.

"My mind and spirit is what counts, professor. And after the cluster-fuck that was today, my original self is already indulging."

"So he sent his clone to deal with us?" questioned Owen.

"For starters. I'll likely spend some time doing more research on a particular journal."

"Indeed. The journal you had Fawkes borrow from the headmaster's personal library," said McGonagall, "At what point will you be returning it?"

"As soon as I finish one final piece of business," answered Harry, "You do know about the Room of Requirement… you saw it in my memories, right?" The professor nodded. "Okay. The journal details exactly how to create one."

"Another extremely rare and powerful kind of magic, Harry," said Remus, appearing quite surprised at the suggestion.

"I know. I've done it before," said Harry, with a shrug.

"I believe 'I' will be needing something a little stronger to drink, after what I've seen today, Potter," said McGonagall, rising. "I do have to return to Grimmauld Place."

"Of course, Professor. As I said to professor Dumbledore, you're always welcome here, the floo's always open."

"Indeed. Good night, Potter." With that, she stepped over to the floo, activated it, and was gone.

"Remus… same for you, of course. I mean, you're like an honorary godfather and all," said Harry. He looked around. "Where did everyone else go?"

"Ron and Hermione went downstairs with the twins to help Jiro and Zachariah, I believe," said Sirius.

"Okay. And I take it you guys will be heading back to Grimmauld Place?"

"Dumbledore will likely want to speak to us as well. I just wanted to wait and make sure you were still okay, kiddo."

"Just fine, Padfoot."

"Why do you call him Padfoot?" questioned Owen.

"A tale for another time, I think," Sirius smiled, causing Harry to giggle. "A 'tail' indeed!"

"Harry!"

* * *

"Well… to… a new direction," Matt spoke, raising his glass of amber liquid.

"I'll drink to that," said Harry, and three glasses clinked. It was their third round, and Harry was already buzzing from the strong beverage.

"Care if we join you?" Harry looked up to see Owen standing just inside the doorway, along with the rest of Matt's band mates. His clone stood just the other side, and gave a nod.

"Sure. Kreacher was a little over zealous as it is," said Harry, gesturing to the number of bottles that rested on the coffee table.

"I'll leave you to it, then," spoke the clone, "I've got some reading to do."

"Great. The Room of Requirement?"

"That would be it." The clone vanished in behind the shelves.

"Mate, that's absolutely FUCKED," said Owen, shaking his head, as he plopped into a couch adjacent to Matt. Harry quickly conjured up additional glasses.

"Matt… you're still our best mate," said Owen, "Sorry about earlier."

"It's not a big deal."

"But it was," Patrick jumped in, taking a seat on a couch opposite to Owen, "We just didn't understand… and still don't… but fuck, whatever makes you happy."

"I still don't know what to make of this," said Matt.

"You're thinking with your head again," said Harry, again planting a hand on his chest, "Think here." Meanwhile, Bill had passed out glasses to the others. "Help yourselves."

"Thanks," said Justin, pouring himself a generous portion. Owen quickly did the same.

"Watch out, this shit's strong," Matt warned.

"What shall we drink to?" questioned Justin.

"Best friends," Matt suggested. There were nods, and glasses again clinked together. Harry gulped down his shot, then watched, as the others took theirs.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" Justin wheezed, his eyes watering profusely. Patrick looked like he was about to pass out from the shock, while Owen… smirked and made a strange gesture with his hand. His eyes were watering too, but…

"What's that mean?" Harry questioned, gesturing at Owen's hand.

"This?" He wheezed, and made the gesture again (pinning his two middle fingers down with his thumb, leaving the index and pinkie finger extended).

"The sign of the devil, Harry," answered Bill, "Or the 'death fist', 'throwing the horns', 'throwing the goat', it's known by a bunch of terms."

"But what did you do it for?" Harry was still confused.

"It means he liked it," Matt smirked. Owen only held the glass out expectantly.

"That answers that," said Harry, as three more joined his.

Next thing Harry knew, someone was gently prodding him on the shoulder.

"Sorry?"

"Need to go… well… 'go'… and someone's locked the door." It sounded like Owen.

"Oh… right," said Harry, trying to focus. He found himself laying against someone, while… someone else's head was in his lap—Bill's, of course.

"Give me a moment. Anyone else… awake?"

"Nope."

"Right." At last able to focus enough, he gestured at the closed doors. "Alohamora." There was a click. "That should do it." He looked up at Owen, who was looking a little unsteady on his feet. "Careful mate."

"Yeah, know that," Owen mumbled, as he unsteadily made his way for the door. Harry was at last able to better assess his situation, as he shifted slightly. An arm was slid around his lower midsection, and as he moved, he was pulled closer by it. 'Interesting', Harry thought, realizing it belonged to Matt, who he was crushed up against. Bill shifted as well, his hair having been released from its usual pony tail sometime earlier. Oh yeah, he remembered, HE had been the one to do that—Bill hadn't exactly been impressed, either! Justin and Patrick were crashed out on the other couch, which had been enlarged—properly—to better suit them… right, his conjured twin… where did he get to?

A single bottle of firewhiskey remained on the coffee table unopened… the rest had been consumed between the six of them. No doubt most of the guys would need anti-hangover potions. And on the note of potions… he mentally sought out his clone—of course, sleeping. They would need to merge when he woke, then. Another approach, then… "Dobby?"

With a sharp POP, the excitable house elf appeared. "Harry Potter call for Dobby and Dobby is here!"

"Great. I need some of my potions restocked. If I give you the money, do you mind?"

"Dobby is honoured to!"

"Great. I'm all out of calming draughts, which we seem to be going through a lot of lately, and perhaps a few more anti-hangover potions."

"Harry's Matty is not handling his firewiskey?"

"Well, not so much Matt, but the others… their first time," Harry answered, while summoning his coin bag. He fished out a stack of Galleons, and passed them to the elf. "If you need more, come back and see me."

"Mhmmm…" Matt moaned, reaching up to rub his eyes with a free hand.

"Dobby is fetching right away!" He vanished with a light POP.

"Just sending Dobby out to fix the potions stores," said Harry, dropping the bag of coins on the coffee table—it landed with a slight clink. Bill stirred slightly with the movement, as Harry readjusted himself, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. Matt had relaxed his hold, but had not pulled his arm away. Another interesting development. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

"We'll have to wait a bit until Dobby gets back. I didn't have many anti-hangover potions."

"Yeah… others'll probably want one," Matt agreed. He looked around. "Where'd Owen get off to?"

"Bathroom, I think," said Harry, "He woke me up 'cause the door was locked."

"Locked?"

"My twin probably sealed it to keep the others out… avoid what happened a few days ago."

"Right. So where is your 'twin' now?"

"Sleeping. We'll merge once he gets up."

"What's it like… well… when you merge?"

"There's a sudden rush of memories and experiences, best way to describe it. The longer he's around, the longer it takes. I'll need to sit down for a while to sort things out."

"So it doesn't hurt?"

"No… not really. A bit uncomfortable… like when he was 'killed'." Just then, Owen stepped back into the room, just as unsteadily as when he'd left.

"You look smashing," said Matt, with a smirk.

"You happen to get the licence plate off that lorry that ran me over?" Owen muttered, landing heavily on the unoccupied couch, and proceeding to rub his temples.

"I've sent Dobby out for anti-hangover potions, he shouldn't be long," said Harry.

"Right. You and I need to talk, Matthew James Tyson," said Owen, turning to face his friend, a scowl planted on his face.

"About…"

"Well… I know you're exploring this new thing with… well… whatever this is between you and Harry… but… I draw the line at you… snogging 'ME'."

"WHAT?!"

"Well… um… err… just write it off to the firewhiskey, mate," said Harry, with a smirk, "I thought I was imagining it."

"Oh no, trust me, you weren't," said Owen, with a sour face, "Bleedin' Christ."

"At least he wasn't tryin' to shag 'ya…"

"I'd cut his cock off first," Owen vowed.

"Wha… cut whose cock off?" Bill mumbled, his eyes blinking open.

"'morning," Harry grinned, reaching down to flick a strand of red hair out of his eyes.

"It'll be better without the hangover… too much firewhiskey…" Bill muttered, as Harry helped him to sit up. He lay back into the cushions, and against Harry. He was effectively pinned now.

"So… Mr. Tyson and Mr. Heaton… did we have a good snog? You'll make Harry jealous, you know."

"It's not funny!" Owen fumed.

"Yes it is!" Harry chortled, getting a glare from both Matt and Owen.

"Yeah, and your twin didn't help matters either," Matt declared, shaking his head, and flicking a lock of hair out of his face. It had all come back to him, clear as day.

"And what did he do?" Harry grinned, although he already had a pretty good mental image of what had happened. He would get the full memory of it later.

"A hundred galleons… he dared Owen… to kiss me! What the FUCK?!"

"Ah… so, Mr. Heaton isn't as innocent as he might suggest," Bill sniggered. That got another glare from Owen.

"So any plans on what you're gonna buy with your winnings?" Harry grinned, reaching for the coin bag. He felt inside, and said, "Shit. I'll need to make another trip to Gringotts, I've only got a few coins left."

"Keep your money," Owen snorted, "I'll be needing some extra-strength mouthwash this morning, I think."

"No, I insist. A bet's a bet, after all… unlike a certain ministry employee I know…"

"He wounds me," said Matt, although his eyes danced with amusement.

"Matt… it's not funny."

"Owen, lighten up… holy fuck, no harm no foul, right? I know you're straight."

"Yeah and I thought you were too."

"We're back to THAT mess again, are we?" questioned Harry, "Guys, we've been over that before. It was all just a bit of fun, now let's leave it."

"Agreed," said Matt.

"Although it will be another wonderful memory to power my Patronus charm," Harry snickered.

"Harry… play nice," Bill hissed, playfully. Just then, Dobby popped back into the room, bringing several vials. "Dobby is bringing anti-hangover potions for Harry's friends!"

"Great. Just put them on the table—" Harry gestured to the coffee table, "—you put the rest away?"

"Dobby is already storing the others away, yes."

"Good. Thanks for your help."

"Dobby is always glad to help out the great Harry Potter, he is!!" With that, the elf popped away.

"That elf's got way too much energy," Owen muttered, snatching up one of the vials.

"You aren't telling me anything I don't already know," Harry grinned, picking up a vial himself, and passing one to Matt.

"'course you realize, you guys had a pretty good snog earlier, too, right?" Bill gestured at Harry and Matt. Owen only shook his head at this, placing the now empty potion vial on the table in front of them.

"Mhmmm… at least… they weren't trying to kiss us." Everyone turned to see Patrick sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

"Although… I think you might have wanted to join in," Harry teased, "Saw you liking your lips several times…" he slid a potion across the table, and Patrick snatched it up, scowling. Just then, Kreacher popped into the room, and croaked out, "Harry and his friends missed breakfast, but Kreacher is bringing brunch!" Instantly, a platter of items appeared on one of the conference tables.

"Thanks, Kreacher," said Harry. The elf only bowed, and popped away.

"Wha? What was that?" Justin moaned, daring to try and open his eyes. He found a potion being pressed into his hand, and he readily accepted it. "Thanks."

The late breakfast saw Matt and Harry once again grilled over their 'strange' relationship, this time from Justin, as he too, had witnessed their interactions much earlier that morning—never mind the dare which had resulted in Owen doing something he would NEVER ever do while sober—he was still threatening to drink an entire container of mouthwash as a result.

Once finished, Harry entered his bedroom, where indeed, his 'twin' was still asleep. His parents, however, were quite awake.

"Harry?! How… what… explain!" said his mother, completely stunned at what she was seeing.

"Ditto," said James, equally shocked.

"You didn't see me practicing this a while back?" Harry reminded.

"So… you got it to work, then?" James arched an eyebrow.

"It was no picnic, yesterday, dad," answered Harry, "Merlin's balls, we could have been killed. Glad I was able to pull it off."

"I see you've finally woke up," said the clone, "I figured you'd want to be up and sober before we merged."

"Yes, good plan," said Harry. The clone vanished.

Harry lay on the bed just vacated, and began to sort through the surge of memories that just invaded his mind. His clone had poured through the notes, and everything was in place for the next stage, to actually cast the spells and runes that would create a Room of Requirement. A project for that evening, perhaps?

The events of that morning, or at least some of them, were quite amusing, including the notorious snogging session between Matt and Owen—yes, he would need to travel to Gringotts sometime to pay off the debt—he had fulfilled the dare. Most certainly worth it, either way… another wonderful memory to power his Patronus charm.

Just then, Mrs. Diggory stepped into the room. "Oh. Mr. Potter… I hope—"

"No, it's all right," answered Harry, "We'll move Cedric into his own room today, so we won't disturb you, or vice a versa."

"That's very kind of you," said Mrs. Diggory, as she claimed the chair beside her son's bed.

"Your husband is okay?"

"He knows about the attack on our home, if that's what you mean. Mr. Black has been very kind."

"I know, that's the way he is. I'll help you guys to rebuild, I promise that."

"We'll manage—"

"I insist," said Harry, "Had it not been for me, they wouldn't have shown up at your residence yesterday. Nor the Weasleys', nor the Lovegoods'."

"You can't blame yourself, sweetheart," Lily scolded, "You already know what Voldemort is capable of."

"I know, but it doesn't mean I don't feel any less responsible, mum."

What seemed like minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Harry opened his eyes to find Dumbledore standing in the doorway.

"Harry. I apologize for disturbing you, but I did want to talk with you further."

"Yeah, I know," Harry answered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Tempus." '1:30 p' wafted from the end of his right index finger. "Shit… didn't plan on sleeping."

"Yes, but that's what happens when you insist on consuming inexcusable amounts of alcohol, young man," Lily scolded. Dumbledore started. "Harry, where did you get the portrait of your parents?"

"From our vault," answered James, "Harry has explained what happened at Gringotts?"

"Not all of it," answered the headmaster, "I wasn't aware you had a portrait made."

"After we had Harry," answered Lily, "We had an inkling things may not go well for us. We had debated putting the portrait in his trust vault, but decided against it after more than a few nights' arguments about it."

"Yet, how is it you were able to obtain your inheritance before you became of age?" questioned Dumbledore.

"The goblins' magic detected my older self," answered Harry, with a shrug.

"Ah, that would be a strong possibility," Dumbledore agreed.

"Sir, we can use the dining room. Lunch is done, I suspect… like to know why no one bothered to come get me," Harry muttered. Just then, loud music erupted from across the hall.

"Your friends, Harry?"

"Yeah. I told you about their music, right?"

Stepping into the dining room, they found Sirius chatting with McGonagall.

"'afternoon, professor, Sirius," Harry greeted.

"And to you, Potter," spoke McGonagall.

"Looks like you just woke up, kiddo," Sirius teased.

"No, not really. Laid down to sort through my thoughts, next thing I know it's 1:30 and professor Dumbledore was knocking at my bedroom door," answered Harry, taking a seat. "Kreacher?" With a pop, the elf appeared.

"Kreacher calling for master Harry?" he croaked.

"Could you bring out some tea and snacks?"

"Kreacher is fetching right away," answered the elf, with a bow. He popped away.

"So there won't be any chance of me getting Kreacher back, then?" Sirius grinned.

"Nope," Harry teased. "Right. So where were we?"

"Most importantly is your hearing tomorrow, Harry," said Dumbledore, "Your memory of it from your past—or future, is most disturbing."

"They threw out Mrs. Figg's testimony, calling it suspect."

"And that's exactly what they will do with Mr. Tyson's testimony," said McGonagall.

"Ah, but see, they're not the same," said Harry. Just then, a plate of snacks appeared at the centre of the table, along with a tea service.

"Perhaps Mr. Tyson should be party to this conversation, then," said McGonagall. Harry nodded. "Give me a few minutes, then."

Stepping into the study, he had to wait for a few minutes for the band to finish what they were playing.

"Matt…" he finally said, "The professors want to talk to you… it's about the hearing tomorrow."

"Right." Matt un-strapped his guitar, and placed it on the stand behind.

"Just borrowing him for a few minutes."

"They can manage without me," said Matt.

Returning to the dining room, they found Dumbledore had conjured up a tin of his famous—or infamous—lemon drops.

"Sorry to pull you away from your friends," spoke Dumbledore, "But you are aware of Harry's hearing tomorrow."

"Yeah, of course. I'll help however I can."

"That remains debatable, Mr. Tyson," said McGonagall, "The Wizengamot—our court—will not put much weight to your testimony, given you're a squib at best."

"Harry… may I borrow your wand again?" questioned Matt. That got more than several present to arch an eyebrow. Harry only nodded, pulling out his wand, and passing it to the guy. "Lumos," he spoke, and a soft light came from the tip. "I'm not a squib. Nox." The light vanished.

"Indeed! That does change things considerably, then," said McGonagall, "Although that does introduce an entirely different set of circumstances. A Muggle becoming magical?"

"yes, a most disturbing precedent, in the eyes of some," Dumbledore agreed.

"Yeah, anyone who's a pureblood," Harry scowled.

"If anyone were to find out about that, they would cart him off to Azkaban—"

"No, they'd want to first dissect him in the Department of Mysteries," Harry broke in, darkly.

"So what can I do? I want to help Harry, but… not if… not if it'll just put me in danger," said Matt.

"You're a Muggle-born," Harry answered, "You didn't respond to your letter when you were eleven—remember what I told you about that?"

"Yeah, of course," said Matt, snatching up a cookie from the platter.

"So he's an untrained wizard. The Wizengamot would buy that, I believe," said Sirius.

"Yeah, I agree. It's not the best thing, but it's better than him being looked on as a squib. Not to mention, I will force them to draw pensieve testimony. Unlike the last time around, I know I have certain rights when facing the Wizengamot—and sir… I wished you would have told me that."

"Harry, it was most likely I was not in a position to—" Dumbledore began, but Harry cut across, saying, "No. It didn't have to be you. It could have been McGonagall, or Sirius! Even you could have let me in on exactly what rights I had, rather than just throwing me into the fire!"

"What he's told me, it sounds like… he was railroaded," said Matt.

"I was," said Harry, "If they think they're gonna pull that dragon shit a second time around, I have news for them," Harry vowed. He thought for a moment. "Need to go to Diagon Alley and pick out something half-decent to wear…" Instantly his clone appeared just behind him. "The coin pouch is still in the study, it needs refilling. Get something half decent from Madam Malkin's. Matt… you probably need something too, go with him."

"Harry, I would ordinarily say not to… but seeing your clone, I daresay you've got it well in hand," said Dumbledore.

"Even if I didn't, I would have gone anyway. Professor, you can't keep me locked away 'for my safety'. I'm twenty-seven, not fifteen," said Harry, darkly, gesturing to himself. He was still wearing his older appearance. Matt and the clone had already left.

* * *

Harry and Matt returned to the study to pick up the coin pouch. Matt's band mates were in between songs, and Owen had a pad of paper out, scribbling notes on it. "Done?" he questioned.

"No," answered Matt, "I'm going out with Harry… need something to wear to court tomorrow."

"Right, forgot about that," said Patrick.

"And I'll get Owen his winnings," Harry smirked.

"Thanks for the reminder," Owen muttered, while Harry picked up the coin pouch. "Right. Let's go." He pulled Matt with him over to the fire place, and drew out a handful of floo powder from the pot that hung on a bracket beside it. He tossed it into the crackling fire, and as it roared up in a brilliant green, he called out, "Diagon Alley!" He then pulled Matt with him into the fire.

They stepped out of the floo, into the dingy pub. Being early afternoon, it was still rather busy, with witches and wizards still enjoying lunch. The pair only got passing glances, since no one knew about Harry's 'older' appearance just yet. Matt, on the other hand, could feel a number of eyes on him.

"Now I know what a goldfish might feel like dropped in a pool of sharks," he whispered, as Harry led him to the courtyard.

"Why's that?"

"I swear every woman in here's got her eyes on me."

"Not just you, mate," Harry smirked, as he activated the wall to open the portal. "Here." He grabbed him again by the arm. "They won't dare bother us now." Sure enough, some of the ladies scowled and turned back to their business.

After a quick stop at Gringotts, where Harry refilled his coin pouch, they were then off to Madam Malkin's. He debated about what kind of outfit to purchase, but settled on simple dress robes. He didn't wish to go overboard with extravagance—he wasn't a pureblood, after all. Yet, he also didn't want to fly in the face of the Wizengamot, dressing in something Muggle.

Matt looked completely out of his element, looking at the variety of clothing for sale. Even more confusing, was the fact that the shop was much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside.

"And what can I get for you, dear?" questioned Madam Malkin.

"I dunno, something like he's got," Matt indicated to Harry.

"And it goes on my bill, please," Harry spoke up. Madam Malkin only nodded. "All right. Up on the stool, please," she said, indicating the stool. A magical measuring tape appeared, and started taking measurements, all to the guy's amazement.

"Damn."

"You've not been measured before, love?"

"No, ma'am."

"He's come by his magical ability late," Harry explained. Madam Malkin only nodded in understanding. "Have you gotten your wand yet?"

"Wand… no, no, not yet."

A wand… YES! Matt would need a wand at this point. That solved the next order of business, then. A visit to Ollivander's. The old man, would of course, see exactly what had happened… yet, he would still be most accommodating. It would also help reinforce the story of Matt being a true wizard.

"I should have your orders complete by supper tonight," said Madam Malkin, finally, as the tape vanished, "Your total is 127 galleons."

"I'll settle now, but can I have a house elf pick things up? I'll be needing the robes tomorrow."

"I can shrink your orders and owl them out to you."

"Right." Harry let out a sigh, realizing he would have to reveal who he was.

"Wait," said Matt, "I can get mail too, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Address both packages to me," said Matt.

"I can do that."

"It's Matt Tyson."

"I'll mail your orders out, then."

"You were a life-saver in there," said Harry, as he led Matt toward Ollivander's.

"I could tell you didn't want to show who you really were," answered Matt, with a shrug. "Err… where are we going now?"

"To get you a wand," answered Harry, bluntly.

"A… oh, right."

"Any self-respecting wizard needs a wand, and Ollivander's is where you get one. Have to tell you though, he'll see right through my disguise. Right sharp wizard he is. And he'll likely pick up on your magic and how you got it. I'll handle that."

"He's not gonna get all bent about it?"

"No. Ollivander's a strange wizard, I'll give you that. He's most definitely not in on the discrimination and so on—and a good thing he isn't, or no Muggle-born would ever get a wand from him."

Stepping into the shop (Matt had to fight off the urge to sneeze with all the dust), they found it deserted… at least at first.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, good to see you again." Both spun to find the short, grey-haired man standing behind them.

"Mr. Ollivander. This is Matt," Harry introduced.

"Ah, here for a wand, I should imagine, yes…" the aged wizard arched an eyebrow. "You've been given a wonderful gift, Mr…"

"Tyson," Matt supplied.

"Mr. Tyson… not too many witches or wizards would dare do such a thing, considering the climate of animosity we find in our society today regarding pure blood and the nonsense it entails."

"So Harry has explained," answered Matt.

"Which is your wand hand?"

"Err…"

"Which hand do you write with?" Harry clarified.

"Oh… right-handed."

"Hold it out then… yes, right." A magical tape suddenly appeared, much like what had happened at Madam Malkin's. It too, began measuring Matt in every which way possible, with a focus on his extended right arm.

"You are truly a unique breed of wizard, Mr. Tyson," said Mr. Ollivander, "I have known of perhaps five others who have gained magical gifts in the way you have."

"Were they… well… powerful?"

"Two of them, yes indeed," answered the old wizard, "Three others, not so much—all were very adept at their skill, if that is what you meant." He arched an eyebrow. "You have been marked BEFORE you met Mr. Potter here."

"Yeah. A much older wizard. He left something for Harry."

"If I might have a look at your memory." Matt looked at Harry questioningly.

"Yeah, he's safe. Just focus on the memory of the guy leaving the package."

"All right." Matt looked the older wizard in the eye. It only lasted a few moments, and they broke contact.

"It can't be." Ollivander muttered.

"What?"

"Merlin's beard…"

"Mr. Ollivander?"

"Magical ancestors."

"Who are they?" Harry was confused. Matt only nodded, sharing in the confusion.

"That's not a story for me to tell, Mr. Potter," answered Ollivander, "Perhaps you might want to speak to professor Dumbledore. He would be a better person to explain. I will say this, Mr. Potter. Whatever destiny you face now, it will be superseded in no small way." He was already back behind the counter, drawing out a number of boxes. "Now let's see…"

"But…"

"No buts, Mr. Potter, I can't tell you anything further. Now, Mr. Tyson… try this one. Dragon heart-string, ash, thirteen and a half inches." He pulled the slender wand from the box, and presented it to Matt. He accepted it, and quickly gave it a wave. Several bolts of magic emitted from the end, to impact with the walls and ceiling.

"No, definitely not," said Mr. Ollivander, as Matt quickly handed it back.

"What… what will it do, should it… err… respond to me?"

"You will know when it is right," said Harry, while Mr. Ollivander handed him another wand. "Oak, unicorn hair, twelve inches." Matt accepted it, and cautiously waved it. A jet of purple magic burst from the tip, slammed into the ceiling, then ricocheted into a stack of books on a shelf, sending them to the floor with a series of smacks. "No, that won't do either," said Ollivander, hurriedly taking it back, putting it back in his box. "Try this one… Yew, phoenix feather, eleven and three quarters inches." Matt gave it a timid wave, this time sending a yellow bolt of magic at the stack of shelves, causing several of them to burst from their mounts, scattering their contents on the floor. Open-mouthed, Matt quickly dropped the wand on the counter.

Three hours and what seemed like fifty wands later, the eccentric wizard looked between Harry and Matt, saying, "I wonder…" He disappeared into the back of the store.

"Jesus Christ, I think I've managed to fuck up his store… and he's still blasé about it!"

"He'll clean it up, don't worry about it," Harry reassured, "It was the same thing when I did this."

"So this… this is normal?" Matt gestured around at the destruction.

"Yes, quite normal, Mr. Tyson," answered Ollivander, returning with yet another box, dug out from somewhere deep in the back. Harry had to smirk, knowing where this was going. If Matt was connected to him as strongly as Harry suspected, he had a very good idea of what was about to happen. "A tough customer, but I like the challenge. Tell me, how long has it taken between when Harry gave you his gift, and you being able to cast magic of any kind?"

"A week or so, maybe," answered Matt, with a shrug.

"Indeed? It's as I suspected, then. Try this one," said Ollivander, opening the long, thin box, and taking out the wand inside. It was of a very light wood. "Birch(1), phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches."

The second Matt's hand closed around the wand, every single fine hair on his body seemed to stand on end, as a warm feeling coursed through him from head to toe. Matt knew at once, the wand had chosen him.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Eight galleons, Mr. Potter," answered Mr. Ollivander. Harry began digging around in his coin pouch.

"Okay. Unlike you, Harry, I don't think I'm gonna be sticking this anywhere in my pants," Matt decided.

"Yes, right," said Harry, "Mr. Ollivander. You wouldn't carry wand holsters or something like?"

"As a matter of fact." He reached under the counter, and drew out two boxes. "You might find these suitable. They strap onto the forearm."

"Perfect." Harry pulled one of them out. The holster was of a dark brown leather, almost black in colour, with several straps that secured it to the forearm like small belts. He wasted no time attempting to secure it to his right arm.

"Nice," said Matt, appreciating the appearance, "Let me help."

"Great." Harry held his arm still while Matt did up the straps. "Guess we'll be taking both of them. How much?"

"All told, then, including the wand, twenty galleons, Mr. Potter." Harry only nodded, and fished out the correct amount.

"I would expect Mr. Tyson will be taught how to cast spells?" questioned Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the coins.

"There are more than a few of us who will," answered Harry. He seemed to look up at the ceiling for a moment. "We need to get back."

"Floo again?"

"Nope. Thanks again, Mr. Ollivander."

"And thank you. Do say hello to Albus for me." Harry had to smirk, as they left the shop. Yes, the eccentric wizard most certainly knew much more about Harry's dealings than he was letting on.

"Right. Grab onto my arm."

"You're gonna apparate? I did tell you that's a fucked up feeling, right?"

"Something's up, better we get back quickly."

"Sure, fine." Matt grabbed Harry's arm, and they vanished with a noisy POP.

They reappeared in the common room of the trunk.

"Where's the fire?" questioned Matt.

"This," spoke the first Harry, holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet.

_BLACK ATTEMPTS TO MURDER BOY-WHO-LIVED_

_Escaped mass-murderer continues to do Dark Lord's bidding, by Rita Skeeter_

_Last week, a Muggle neighbourhood in Surrey was upended with the arrival of eight dark wizards, who proceeded to storm the residence of Harry Potter and his relatives, intent on murdering the boy and his family. As of this morning, it is still unknown as to the fate of the boy, but his relatives appear to be in good spirits, though rather put out by the 'freakish activity' going on around them currently, as the ministry continues to investigate._

_A number of individuals have gone on record accurately describing escaped mass-murderer Sirius Black as one of the attackers, one even citing him as the 'ring leader of the whole, freakish ordeal'…_

The second Harry stopped reading the paper there, gesturing at it with his hand, and setting it on fire. "Utter rubbish, what else do we expect from the woman?"

"Exactly. Did you two get what you need?"

"Yeah, you could say that," said the clone, "And more." He indicated the holster on his arm, and the box Matt was carrying.

"Before you, err… vanish… you might want to pass that to me," said the first Harry.

"Better now than never…" He fumbled with the straps, releasing the holster from his arm, removed the wand, and passed it over. "Ciao!" He vanished.

"Here, I'll help," Matt offered again, dropping the box on the coffee table. Harry only nodded, and let him do up the straps. He smirked, seeing the memory of the guy getting his wand. "You blew up the shop, too?"

"Jesus fuck, it wasn't funny, Harry!" Matt blurted.

"Sure it was! I mean, a wave of the wand and everything's put back to rights, no harm no foul." Matt only shook his head at this, as he made sure the straps were tight. "Uh huh…" He was still not exactly comfortable at the damage he'd caused, instantly fixable or not!

"Here, let me see yours," said Harry, sliding his wand into the new holster. Matt opened the box, and pulled out an identical holster to Harry's, wand already in place. Harry quickly secured it. "Now if I remember… you flick your wrist like so…" he flicked his wrist, and his wand slid into his hand.

"Mr. Tyson… you're a wizard?" questioned Hermione.

"Good enough to need a wand, I guess." He duplicated Harry's movements, but missed, and the instrument clattered to the floor.

"It takes practice," said Harry, retrieving it and passing it back. "Let's try something then. Watch me carefully… the wand motion is just as important is annunciation. Swish and flick—" he did so, "—wingardium leviosa!" An empty glass that had been resting on the table lifted into the air, and continued to rise until it was at eye-level. "Concentration is everything with this spell." He guided the glass back to the table top. "Think you can give it a go?"

"Perhaps later, Harry." Everyone turned to see Dumbledore again standing at the archway into the dining room. "Although I daresay, you may be teaching at Hogwarts someday."

"Unlikely, sir." He turned back to Matt. "Let's just do a quick test. You remember how to light your wand?"

"Yeah. Lumos," Matt commanded. This time, a bright light bloomed from the tip. "See, that wand has given you its allegiance, you're its master. You'll always get better performance from it because of that."

"Nox." The light vanished. "But… you mean the wand is 'alive'?"

"In some ways," said Harry, "I mean, it knows if you're defeated in a duel. That's how I beat Voldemort the last time. I promise I'll explain more later." He gestured back to the dining room. The discussions were far from over, after all.

The rest of the day and evening had been more discussions about Harry's original timeline, and points about how to deal with certain things as they came up. It had resulted in a number of others added to the trunk, as it appeared the Order should be involved as well. Harry was only happy to oblige, as his trunk was just a little more secure than Grimmauld Place. Never mind the fact it didn't give off the air of a derelict building!

It had been briefly interrupted just after supper, when two large barn owls swooped in, dropping their bundles in front of Matt.

"Forgot about those," said Harry, as the birds left from whence they came. "I'll put those away after." The distraction over, the meeting continued.

He was silently thanking everything holy when the meeting finally adjourned, as it neared 10 pm. Harry had almost excused himself and summoned his clone to take his place, but that wouldn't have been fair to Matt, nor Ron nor Hermione, for that matter. He bid everyone good night, and retreated to his room, while Matt rejoined his band mates, who had been holed up in the study the entire day.

"Harry… are you all right?" Bill had followed him to his room.

"Just a little tired. Tired of explaining everything over and over again. I mean, I tried to change something, and… we're still—" he only gestured at Cedric's petrified form.

"We don't know how things will end up. You can only react to what's in the here and now, not dragon shit that may or may not happen."

"Still…"

"Just relax. No studying tonight, Harry. put all that stuff aside."

"It's hard to do…"

"No doubt it is, but you need to unplug for a while. Look after yourself."

Of course, Bill was right. Harry let out a sigh, plopping down on the bed. He gestured at himself, redressing in his pyjamas. Tomorrow would be a stressful day, and he would need all the rest he could get. Once again, it was tempting to send his clone, but… no, he wouldn't do that to Matt.

He shifted over slightly, making room for Bill, who happily obliged, having stripped down to his boxers and a tee shirt. It was nice to have the eldest Weasley at his side again. He closed his eyes, music wafting in from the other room…

…_Welcome to where time stands still  
No one leaves and no one will  
Moon is full, never seems to change  
Just labelled mentally deranged  
Dream the same thing every night  
I see our freedom in my sight  
No locked doors, no windows barred  
No things to make my brain seem scarred_

_Sleep my friend and you will see  
That dream is my reality  
They keep me locked up in this cage  
Can't they see it's why my brain says rage  
_

_Sanitarium, leave me be  
Sanitarium, just leave me alone…(2)_

Sometime later, Harry was partially reawakened by another body sliding up beside him in the bed, now effectively pinning him between two forms. "Night, Harry." He only smiled, feeling another arm snake across his chest. 'Harry's Matty' had finally admitted something his heart had already known.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So… is Harry becoming a drunk? Not. Just realize, he's faced two events that have been bordering on catastrophic, and for Matt… well, for him, they probably were!_

_NO. The band is NOT based on Metallica, BUT they did cover this song. This should be a huge clue as to who they are, though! I picked that particular track as perhaps a bit of irony, with everything Harry's faced since the beginning of the story, it's a wonder he ISN'T bonkers at this point. Also throw in the fact Dumbledore is still going all protective… rather poetic, I think._

_(1) Birch is the Celtic wood appropriate for Matt's birthday (Jan 20, 1980)._

_(2) Song: "Welcome home (Sanitarium)", writers: Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, © 1986._


	18. The Hearing

DATE OF PUBLISH: December 23, 2009.

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __Thenchick, David305, Exodiano, and zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_CAUTION: Coarse language._

_CHAPTER SUMMARY: Harry's hearing before the Wizengamot has some unexpected consequences…_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XVII-  
THE HEARING**

**Or, harry potter vs the ministry of magic, round I**

**

* * *

**Harry's wake-up call came way too early for his liking.

"Master Harry is needing to get up now," spoke Kreacher, gently prodding Harry in the ribs. Harry let out a giggle, as it actually tickled.

"It is being nearly five in the morning," the elf croaked out again.

"S'okay, I'm up," Harry moaned, blinking in the semi-bright light of the room. He attempted to sit up, but found an arm was pulling him closer. Bill had already gotten up—he had to wonder where he had got off to. Harry reached over a free hand and poked Matt in the ribs. "Hey… we need to get up. It's five am."

"Yeah… heard," Matt mumbled, rolling over onto his back, letting Harry at last swing his legs over the side of the bed. The elf vanished with a soft pop.

"Really not looking forward to this," said Harry, gesturing at himself several times with his hand. He now stood in just his boxers. He summoned the box containing his new robes, and quickly put them on.

"You'll teach me how to do that, right?" questioned Matt, as he too swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"A summoning charm? I didn't learn how to do that until my forth year, and even then it was slightly under duress."

"Right."

"I don't mean to discourage you, but the things I do naturally… took a lot of practice," said Harry. Matt only nodded, removing his shirt.

"Here." Harry summoned the second box, and slid it across the bed.

"Thanks."

"How old do I look?"

"Twenty-seven," answered Matt.

"Nope, that won't do." Harry gestured at himself, restoring his younger appearance. "You know of course, I don't want too many people to know about my real appearance."

"Yeah, of course," said Matt, as he dressed. He'd picked out a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt to wear under the robes they bought the day before, and a pair of black shoes. The guy actually looked quite sharp all cleaned up.

Harry was dressed quite sharp as well, having bought himself a pair of grey-blue dress slacks and collar-less off-white dress shirt. On his feet, he wore a pair of dark grey shoes. No, this time around, he wasn't going into court looking like an orphan. The pin he wore on left chest of his robes was another reminder of that: the Potter crest, one of the items he had retrieved from his vault at the beginning of the holidays. He would step into court, not as a downtrodden boy, but as a young man, at least in the eyes of the court. If Fudge thought he would have a cakewalk, he was in for a very rude awakening.

"Matt… could I try something?"

"With?"

"Your hair."

"Err…" but he had no chance, as Harry gestured once with his hand, causing the guy's hair to lengthen by several inches. Another gesture, and it was tied in a loose pony tail.

"Have a look." Harry pointed to the mirror on the dresser.

"Okay. I like it," said Matt, admiring the change.

"The loose look is nice, but this is better for appearing as a defence witness in court," said Harry. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"It's open," said Harry. The door opened, and Sirius poked his head in. "Just making sure you're both truly up."

"Yeah," said Harry, then to Matt, "Just about ready?"

"Yeah, this'll do."

"Good luck today, sweetheart," said Lily, from her portrait.

"Thanks, mum."

"Run circles around them, Prongslet," James smirked.

"Count on it, dad. Fudge is in for a very rude awakening. Right, let's go."

Breakfast was already out, and both took seats at the table. It was the usual fare of cereal, toast, bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit, with a jug of juice. Just then, Mr. Weasley stepped into the dining room. "Ah, good, the both of you are up," he said.

"Yeah. I made sure Kreacher woke us up," answered Harry.

"I say, the both of you look smashing."

"Thanks. No hand-me-down look today. We've got an image to project."

"You still plan on using the visitors' entrance," questioned Sirius, as he took a seat at the table, and served himself.

"Yeah. Just like the first time, it's better if we show up at the ministry using non-magical means," said Harry.

"Yes, quite right, make a good impression," Mr. Weasley agreed.

"We'll floo back to Grimmauld Place, first," Harry decided, "We can walk to the underground station from there." He checked the time again. "Let's hurry it up, I'd rather actually be in the court room for seven-thirty if we can." Then something crossed his mind. "We won't be able to keep our robes on for the trip. We'll have to put them on once we get to the entrance," Harry decided.

"Yes, quite right," Mr. Weasley agreed.

Stepping out of the fireplace into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Matt found the place far from deserted. Remus, Tonks, and a dark, bald wizard were gathered around the table, about to have breakfast. Mrs. Weasley was bustling about the kitchen, preparing the meal.

"You've already had breakfast?" she questioned, turning to appraise the pair.

"Yeah, already ate. We're just on our way out," answered Harry. Just then, the floo fired a second time, and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it.

"Good luck, Harry," spoke Tonks, "We've all got our fingers crossed."

"Thanks. With luck, things will turn out differently this time," said Harry, as Mr. Weasley led them out of the kitchen into the hallway. Sirius' mother was still screaming from her portrait, but no sounds came from it.

"Who's that?" questioned Matt.

"Sirius' mum… most foul woman. I fixed her just right, I think," Harry smirked. The woman in the portrait seemed to scream even louder, trying to break through the powerful silencing charm Harry had nailed her with.

"Charming, I'm sure." Matt smirked, and made a rude gesture at the portrait.

"Don't egg her on, we don't want—" Mr. Weasley began, but Harry only grinned. "Maybe Matt might give her a heart attack or something. Given the fact he WAS a Muggle until he met me."

The look on Mrs. Black's face was priceless. She actually stopped screaming for a moment, as the thought crossed her mind. Then her face again contorted into a rage, and she let forth another flurry of silenced but angry screams and snarls, although Harry could make out one phrase: "Magic stealer".

As it had happened the first time around, Mr. Weasley kept his hands shoved in his pockets as they walked the distance from Grimmauld Place to the small underground station at Tufnell Park. It was already quite busy with early morning commuters. Mr. Weasley could hardly contain himself, being so close to Muggles going about their daily business.

"Simply fabulous," he whispered, gesturing at the automatic ticket machines.

"Why? It's just… well…" Matt muttered, looking confused.

"Mr. Weasley's not used to Muggle stuff, remember?" Harry whispered.

"Right."

"It's broken anyway, c'mon, this way," said Harry, leading Mr. Weasley away from the machine.

"But even so…" said Mr. Weasley, beaming at the machine fondly. Harry knew that if he could, he'd take the broken machine for his collection—not that London Regional Transport would appreciate that! Harry handled the transaction, purchasing the three tickets, and minutes later, they were on board a tube train destined for Charing Cross. Mr. Weasley kept checking the underground map above the windows, but Harry already knew where they were going. Having to exist practically as a Muggle for some time, he got to know his way around London.

They exited the train at Charing Cross, and made their way through the ticket barrier (Mr. Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed their tickets), and at last found themselves outside, facing a broad street with imposing buildings and already busy traffic. Harry had to grin somewhat, watching Matt look around. Of course, being from the U.K., he would know the place a little, at least.

"We're actually not far from the Leaky Cauldron," said Harry, gesturing at the street going diagonally away from them, "Charing Cross road is that way, it's up there."

"How do you know that?" questioned Mr. Weasley.

"I've spent enough time messing about in Muggle London, I learned that way. Now… the visitor's entrance for the Ministry of Magic… it's this way."

"Blimey, Harry, you didn't need me to come along," said Mr. Weasley.

"Better to have some sort of escort. I'd rather them not know I actually know a thing or two… at least until it's too late. They all think I'm some naïve little boy who knows sod all about how things work. They're in for a very rude awakening," said Harry, forcefully.

"Beware of Harry," Matt snickered.

After a fair bit of walking, they at last arrived at an old-fashioned public telephone box, that appeared as though it had seen better days. Matt arched an eyebrow. This was the Ministry of Magic? No wonder they all seemed a bit touched in the head!

"After you, Harry, Mr. Tyson," Mr. Weasley indicated, holding the door open.

"Gonna be a tight squeeze," Harry sniggered, while he and Matt climbed in. Mr. Weasley squeezed in after, closing the door. Of course, both Harry and Mr. Weasley knew exactly how it worked, but Matt was in a complete quandary. What the hell were they planning to do in a ramshackle telephone box in the middle of London? It was most definitely a tight fit, with Matt crushed up against Harry, who was very much pressed against the telephone itself, which hung haphazardly from the wall—no doubt some vandal had attempted to yank the device from the wall—without much success. Mr. Weasley fumbled around and at last found the receiver.

"Err… I strongly doubt that's gonna work, it looks completely fubar," said Matt.

"Fubar?"

"Fucked up beyond all repair," answered Matt. Mr. Weasley mouthed 'O', clearly sorry he had asked, then, peering at the dial, said, "Right. Let me see… six…" he dialled the number, "…two …four …and another four… and another two…"

AS the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Err…" said Mr. Weasley, not sure whether he was to speak into the receiver. Like before, he compromised by placing the mouthpiece to his ear. "Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter and a witness, Matthew Tyson, both attending a disciplinary hearing…"

"Thank you," said the cool female voice, "Visitors, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes." There was a click and a rattle, and Matt saw something slide out of where the coins were usually returned from. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with 'Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing' on it. "This one's yours."

"Right," said Harry, awkwardly getting a hand free and accepting the badge. The machine then spit out a second silver badge. Matt took it, knowing it was for him. They pinned them on, as the female voice spoke again, "Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." The floor of the telephone box suddenly shuddered, and as if it were an elevator, they were sinking into the ground.

"Is this normal?" questioned Matt, uneasily.

"Yes, quite," answered Harry.

"I've never used this entrance before," said Mr. Weasley.

"I've come in this way more than a few times," Harry explained, as they continued their descent.

It seemed like an eternity for Matt, as they descended through the ground. For a time, it was complete darkness, with the only sound being the dull grinding noise the box as making. At last, a crack of golden light illuminated their feet, and widening, rose up his body, until he was hit in the face with it and had to blink several times to get used to it. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day, said the woman's voice. The door to the telephone box sprung open, and the three of them were more than happy to escape the close-quarters it had provided.

Matt only stared at the incredible space they found themselves in. It was a long, curving corridor, with a high, vaulted ceiling, and a polished, dark wood floor. The peacock-blue ceiling was inlaid with golden pictures and symbols that kept changing and moving about like some giant pixel board. The walls on either side were panelled in a similar dark wood to the floor, many having tall fireplaces set into them. One side had queues of witches and wizards waiting to floo out, while on the opposite side, every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of them with a slight 'whoosh' and a green flash of flames.

"Let's duck in over here," said Harry, gesturing to a small vestibule, "Put on our robes."

"Right." Matt was still slightly dazed by the magical environment.

Once they had put their robes on and reaffixed the badges, Mr. Weasley led them to the security station at the far end of the atrium, having passed the fountain at the centre. They stepped away from the crowd of Ministry employees, and approached a desk set off to the left, with a sign above it reading simply, 'SECURITY'. At the desk, sat a badly-shaven wizard dressed in peacock-blue robes, with his nose stuck in a copy of the Daily Prophet. 'Some security guard,' thought Matt, while Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. The wizard looked up, setting the paper down. "I'm escorting two visitors." Mr. Weasley gestured to Harry and Matt.

"Step over here," said the wizard, in a bored tone. Harry stepped over beside the desk, and the wizard produced something that better resembled a car antenna. Harry knew now it was a probility probe, used to detect concealment spells and hidden magical objects. He found himself holding his breath as he was scanned—would his glamour be disrupted or detected by it?

His worries were unfounded, as the wizard moved on to scan Matt. Finding nothing of concern, he put the probe down. "Wands," the wizard grunted. Both Harry and Matt produced their wands. The wizard snatched up Harry's first, dropping it on what looked like a small scale with only one dish. It vibrated for a moment, then a narrow strip of parchment was spit out of a slot in the base. The security wizard tore it off, and began reading, "Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use for four years. That correct?"

"That's correct," answered Harry, bluntly.

"I keep this," said the wizard, impaling it on a small brass spike with a number of others, "You get this back." He thrust the wand at Harry.

"Thank you."

"Hang on…" said the wizard slowly. His eyes darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead.

"Yes, it's me," Harry groaned, gesturing at Matt.

"Yes, right. Wand." He held out his hand, and Matt passed over his wand. Like Harry's, it was weighed, and the wizard read the small slip of parchment: "Twelve and a quarter inches, phoenix-feather core, new as of yesterday. That correct?" he arched an eyebrow at Matt.

"Yeah, that's correct," answered Matt. The wizard huffed to himself, impaling the second slip of parchment on the narrow spike, and passed Matt his wand back. He again glanced at Harry's badge, then at his forehead.

"Thank you, Eric," said Mr. Weasley, firmly, leading Harry and Matt away from the security desk.(1)

The lift ride down to the Department of Mysteries was surprisingly quick, being only one floor below the Atrium. They were alone for the trip. They wasted no time travelling a corridor with bare walls and no windows, and to a flight of stairs leading down. Harry once again knew where he was going, passing a number of heavy wooden doors with iron bolts and keys.

"Cheery environment," Matt muttered.

"Yeah, isn't it?" Harry drawled. They at last came to a stop outside a grimy door with an immense iron lock.

"All right, Harry. you already know I can't go in with you two. But good luck," said Arthur, "I'll be off to work, then."

"Thanks." Harry took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and pulled open the door.

To no surprise of his, there were already a number of witches and wizards seated on the benches, dressed in their plum-coloured robes, a silver 'W' pinned to the left side of the chest. A few sneered at him as he crossed the room.

"Matt… wait off to the side." Harry pointed to a side bench. Then he said to the room, "Sorry this is wasting your valuble time," and gave a slight bow of the head, before taking a seat in the chained chair. Like the first time, it threatened but did not bind him.

A few minutes after, Dumbledore also stepped into the court room, getting waves from a few of the seated members, sneers from others. He was immediately followed by a number of others, all dressed in the same plum-coloured robes.

"Good morning, Harry."

"'morning, sir. Fudge on his way?"

"He is." At the headmaster's words, the object of their brief discussion made an appearance, stepping into the room, along with two witches, both of which Harry knew quite well, for different reasons. The Minister stopped short, seeing Harry and the headmaster already present. How had the brat managed that one?! His day darkened somewhat, as he took his position at the centre of the benches, with one witch—Amelia Bones—taking the seat immediately to his left, while the other—Delores Umbridge—took the seat immediately to his right. Harry looked around, and stood.

"Good morning, members of the Wizengamot. As a defendant, I am exercising my right to give pensieve testimony."

"We are not ready to proceed!" spoke out one member from the back.

"But we do have quorum, do we not?" Harry rebutted. The look on Fudge's face spoke volumes. What sort of can of worms had he just opened? Harry only smirked, knowing exactly what was running through the Minister's mind. Oh, this was going to be good—at least for Harry.

"The defendant does have the right to a fair proceeding, does he not?" questioned Dumbledore. That made Fudge sputter again. Oh no, this was definitely not good. He debated about dismissing the charges right then and there, but no, that would not be a good message to send either. Harry had already effectively opened the hearing, and with that move, effectively controlled the proceeding. The bigger question: how did he know about the workings of the Wizengamot? Delores had been quite thorough in her investigation, stating the boy had been raised in a Muggle home, and other than at school, had virtually no contact with the Wizarding world.

"The court scribe is not yet present, Mr. Potter," spoke Madam Bones.

"Then we will wait until he gets here," spoke Harry, coolly, retaking his seat. The chains again clinked ominously. "Professor, do you mind producing a table for me?"

"Not at all." Dumbledore gestured with his wand, producing a small table. Harry drew out several pages of parchment from the satchel he had with him, and lay them on the table. This again drew the attention of most members settled in the room. Yes, the boy was most DEFINITELY prepared.

Actually, the papers in front of him were notes and precedents set by previous sessions of the Wizengamot—the Order had been quite busy overnight, after all. There were also notes on Wizarding law, which Harry drew on memory for. It was in essence a cheat-sheet, although he was very confident of how he would present himself and his defence.

Just then, the doors opened once more, and the final members of the Wizarding court at last walked into the room. They were followed by Percy Weasley, dressed in a half-decent suit. Perhaps a perk? Not that it really mattered. The guy took his position off to the side, on a bench below that of the Minister's.

"Now that we are all present—" began Fudge, but Harry once again cut across him, saying, "I restate my right to give pensieve testimony."

"Right… yes… Weasley, produce a court pensieve," Fudge directed. The third eldest Weasley rose, and retrieved the required item from a locked box under the bench, and with a questioning look at Fudge, walked over and placed it on the table in front of Harry.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, although his tone said anything but. That was not lost on Matt, still seated off to the side. "And with that, 'I' am ready to proceed."

"The charges?" questioned Dumbledore.

"Fine, very well, then… yes, let us begin then…" Fudge looked down at Percy, who had returned to his seat, and had his quill poised. "Disciplinary hearing of the second of August, into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley—"

"Representing the defendant, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. We produce one witness, Matthew James Tyson, of no fixed address."

Like the first time around, Fudge appeared slightly rattled Harry had come with witnesses. "Yes, very well, then, the charges, yes…" He pulled a page of parchment from the stack in front of him, and began reading, "The charges against the accused are as follows:

"That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the twenty-fifth of July at twenty-one minutes past eight in the evening, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge questioned, glaring at Harry over the top of the parchment.

"No," answered Harry.

"NO?!" questioned Fudge, looking incensed. The brat dared defy the court?!

"No. Not since July thirty-first, and for the record, I will never call that address home again due to safety concerns."

"Then would you care to correct your address for the court?" questioned a wizard from several rows up.

"No."

"You don't have a choice in the matter, Mr. Potter," spoke Madam Bones, forebodingly.

"It's not that I won't. I can't," answered Harry.

"Harry is presently in a sequestered location for his safety," supplied Dumbledore.

"Very well, of no fixed address, then," said Madam Bones.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?" Fudge continued.

"I did."

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the twenty-fifth of July?" questioned Fudge.

"Yes, I did," answered Harry, keeping an even face. He would let Fudge run with things for the moment.

"Knowing that you were not permitted to use magic outside of school while you were under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes."

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes," answered Harry. 'Wait for it…' he thought, and wasn't disappointed, as Madam Bones cut in, asking, "You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?"

"Yes, a stag," answered Harry, "Perfectly formed."

"Indeed? And you've produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes, for over a year now. Professor Lupin was a brilliant teacher."

"Most impressive," said Madam Bones, "A true Patronus, at only fifteen… very impressive indeed." Like the first time, some of the witches and wizards around her were muttering, while others were frowning, shaking their heads.

"It's not a question about how impressive the magic was," said Fudge, in a huff, "In fact—"

"Yes, yes, the more impressive, the worse it is," Harry finished.

"How dare—"

"My turn to speak, Minister," Harry hissed, rising from the chair. "You will now hear MY SIDE of the story, it is my RIGHT, is it not?"

"I… I… well…"

"I should also thank you for granting me adult rights—"

"What… what is this nonsense you're spewing, boy?!" Fudge demanded, while Harry only grinned.

"Ah, about that, Minister," Dumbledore spoke, "It seems you did not conduct proper research in your haste to enact swift justice, Cornelius. By dragging Mr. Potter before the full Wizengamot, you have effectively tried him as an adult, thereby granting him adult rights." Fudge seemed to wilt at his seat, as the realization dawned on him. "But… but…" he sputtered, "The boy has committed—" But Harry had already produced his wand, and holding it out in front of him, spoke, "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic, that the memory I am about to share is accurate and true. So mote it be." A golden strand of magic wafted from the tip and buried itself in his chest. He then placed the tip of his wand to his temple, and drew out what looked like a glowing, silvery strand of hair. He dropped it in the pensieve, and tapped it once with his wand.

A scene formed from the pensieve, large enough for all to see. "Myself, Mr. Tyson, and Mr. Diggory—" Harry gestured to each figure, "—were walking back from the park in my neighbourhood on the night in question."

"Mr. Diggory is indisposed at present, and in no condition to testify, or he would be here," Dumbledore added. Harry nodded, and tapped the pensieve again, allowing the scene to play out.

The playback lasted only a couple of minutes. Harry had debated throwing in the events which followed, but for now elected to focus on the event at hand—the reason for the hearing in the first place. At the end of the playback, a good number of the membership were muttering amongst themselves. This was a most disturbing event indeed!

Harry wasted no time, collecting the memory from the pensieve, and placing it in a vial Dumbledore had provided. "I now present my one and only collaborating witness, Matthew James Tyson." Harry moved off to the side, while Matt joined them.

"Right, yes…" Fudge muttered, "Full name, then?"

"Matthew James Tyson," Matt answered in a clear voice.

"And who exactly are you?" questioned Fudge, sounding perhaps a little hopeful.

"I recently met Mr. Potter several weeks ago near where he used to live, and we've since become close friends," answered Matt.

"We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging, other than Harry Potter," said Madam Bones at once, "That situation has always been closely monitored, given… given past events." Harry waved Matt close, and whispered something in his ear.

"I… I'm an unfocused adult wizard," answered Matt, lifting the sleeve of his robe, showing his wand. "Mr. Potter has been a bit of a help as of late."

"I see." Fudge narrowed his eyes at Matt, and Harry could see the rest of the court wasn't exactly warming to him either.

"Nonetheless, he IS a wizard, and is here assisting in my defence," Harry pointed out.

"Harry… how do you draw out memories?"

"You remember how to do an oath?" questioned Harry. Matt nodded. "Do that first." Matt again nodded, producing his wand. He held it out in front of him as Harry had before, saying, "I, Matthew James Tyson, swear on my magic, that the memory I am about to share is accurate and true. So mote it be." Like with Harry, a golden strand of magic wafted from the tip and buried itself in his chest.

"Now put the wand at your temple… right. Think carefully of the memory, and pull… exactly," said Harry, as the silvery strand pulled away from the side of Matt's head, to dangle at the end of his wand. He let it fall into the pensieve. Harry took over from there, tapping the pensieve once. Surprisingly, it was almost identical to Harry's memory.

"He's done some sort of tomfoolery!!" challenged a witch in the back, "It's an identical memory!"

"If that were true, Mr. Tyson would have lost his magic. Mr. Tyson, if you will light your wand, that should clear the issue nicely," said Dumbledore. Matt only nodded, speaking, "Lumos." His wand lit up as expected, and he doused the light.

"So we are clear then, this is a separate memory," said Harry, then allowed the memory to play out.

The court fell to quiet, although there was the odd whisper, while Harry collected the memory with the tip of his wand, and helped Matt to put it back where it belonged. This activity was not lost on a number of members of the court.

"Well… this is all well and good… but the prospect of Dementors showing up in Little Whinging?" Fudge at last stammered, "They just happen to come across three wizards? The odds on that must be very, very long. Even Bagman wouldn't have bet—"

"Indeed, and a question I must ask," said Dumbledore, standing, "How is it that Dementors came to be there? Most definitely not by accident." Harry grinned, as the scene played out again, with Dumbledore challenging the idea of the ministry perhaps ordering the Dementors to attack him.

"That's Umbridge," Harry whispered to Matt, as the toad-faced witch entered the argument.

"I see what you mean by toad," Matt agreed.

"This is all well and good," Harry spoke, drawing the attention back to himself, "But I think I would like to wrap this up sometime this morning. I'm sure there are other places all of you might like to be."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," spoke Madam Bones, "All in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" It was a different outcome this time around, as well over half the assembly's hands went up.

"And those in favour of conviction?" Fudge raised his hand. So did Umbridge, and a scattering of others. Fudge glanced around, then sighed to himself. This was tearing him up, Harry could see it. "Very well, very well then… cleared of all charges."(2)

"Great, now we've got that little piece of business out of the way," said Harry, with a smile, "I must ask this August body what it plans to do with regard to the fact Dementors attacked three wizards in Surrey. Surely, this cannot be allowed to happen again, if your strong-arm stance on the statute of secrecy suggests."

"Do not mock this body, Mr. Potter," Fudge snapped, leering over his lectern.

"Mock it? No, I don't mock it at all. But you most certainly do, Minister, dragging people before this body with the illusion of administering justice, yet, it is exactly that, an illusion," Harry crackled back, "And you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about."

"Believe me, Mr. Potter, there will be an investigation into the activities of Dementors," spoke Madam Bones, "From your testimony here, as well as the testimony of your peer, it does indeed suggest a most unnerving circumstance, one which must not be allowed to repeat."

"Thank you, Madam Bones," spoke Harry, inclining his head. "I know exactly what the statute of Wizarding secrecy means, and I will not knowingly and intentionally violate it, unless there is dire need to do so. With that, I take my leave."

"Not… so… fast… Mr. Potter," spoke Fudge. "How does this trial enact your gaining adult rights?"

"Cornelius, the boy speaks the truth," said Madam Bones, "Had you actually consulted with your staff rather than just plough on ahead with your own agenda, I could have told you that."

"That can be changed—"

"No it can't," answered Bones, and Harry smirked. It was nice seeing Fudge on the hot seat.

"Beware of the seeds you sew, Minister," said Harry, and with that, he stepped back to the side benches, Matt following.

"I warn you, Cornelius, Mr. Potter has more than a few knives aimed at your back. You will do well to give him a wide berth," said Dumbledore.

"I am not afraid of a fifteen year old boy, Dumbledore!" Fudge scowled.

"I would be," said Dumbledore, "You've now made a grave mistake concerning his affairs. Believe me when I say, he will collect on that when the time comes."

"Are you suggesting Mr. Potter is a danger?" Umbridge simpered.

"Not to the public at large. Those who have truly caused him pain or injustice, on the other hand, I would suggest they tread lightly. The boy has a job to do, and it will not do to get in his way."

"What sort of job might that be? You're not on about You-Know-Who again?" grumbled a heavily-moustached wizard.

"I'm saying exactly that. Mr. Potter IS the boy-who-lived, I need not remind this August body."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is GONE, Dumbledore, he's not coming back!" Fudge roared.

"We can argue this until we are all blue in the face," spoke Madam Bones, "Reluctantly I must agree, that without some solid evidence, we maintain that position." The other members were getting restless, and Dumbledore took that as a cue. "Very well. I daresay, you will all regret that decision. With that, we take our leave. Good day, Cornelius, Madam Bones, Madam Umbridge." He led Harry and his friend from the court room.

"Harry, I must say, I'm most impressed with the way you handled things in there," Dumbledore praised, as they walked toward the stairs that would take them up to the 9th floor.

"I won't win many friends, but I played—err… hard-ball, as the Muggle expression goes. Fudge tried to walk all over me, and I didn't let him… not like the first time around."

"Indeed. The makings of a politician, I believe."

"Not," said Harry, as they climbed the stairs.

Once again, Dumbledore felt very much in the dark, as Harry led him and his friend through the Department of Mysteries, to the Hall of Prophecies. Those that worked in the department certainly gave the group more than a second glance, but seeing they were with Dumbledore, nothing further was thought of it or done.

"We need isle 97," Harry spoke. It felt rather strange, retracing his steps from what was for him 10 years prior, when he had dragged 5 of his closest friends to the exact same location. "Death Eaters chased us soon as I collected it," Harry spoke.

It took several minutes, but at last they closed on isle 97. "Now look for a tag on one of them—"

"This it?" questioned Matt, gesturing to one of the globes. Exactly as before, in spidery writing was written a date, and below it:

_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D._

_Dark Lord_

_And (?) Harry Potter_

"Yes, that's it," said Harry, reaching down, and picking it up. "This is my destiny, what I was born to do."

"But it's not everything, Harry," spoke Matt, putting a hand on his shoulder, while the boy-become-man slipped the globe into a pocket.

"No, it's not everything, but it's… I can't ever hope to have a normal life until this… this prophecy is fulfilled." He thought for a moment, then conjured up a globe that looked identical to the one he had just taken.

"A copy?" questioned Matt.

"Sort of," answered Harry, "It'll piss Voldemort off when he 'sees' it. Let's go."

Dumbledore left them at the elevators, speaking about an unscheduled meeting with the Minister—Harry smirked at that… it most likely meant 'unscheduled' for the minister. Harry was well aware of how Dumbledore worked.

"Glad he's on our side, all I have to say," said Harry, as the doors to the elevator closed, "Let's get back to the trunk."

Returning to the trunk, they found everyone else awake, having breakfast themselves.

"Well?" questioned Fred, looking up from his meal.

"Cleared of all charges," Harry announced. That got a series of 'Congratulations', and 'Well done' from the group.

"Thing is it shouldn't have happened," said Harry, claiming a seat beside Bill. Matt quickly took the seat opposite.

"Look at it this way, Harry," noted Bill, "You are a step ahead of where you were last time… you're still a student at Hogwarts."

"True enough. But Fudge definitely knows I'm a threat now. He'll come at me with everything he can."

"And we'll push back just as hard," said Sirius, standing in the doorway to the dining room.

"True enough. It helps considering I've now got adult rights. You should've seen the look on Fudge's face when I brought that up. Looked like he'd sucked on several very sour lemons."

"Care to share the memory with us?" questioned Zachariah. He and Jiro were sitting at the far end of the table.

"After you guys are done. Come join us in the study."

"Where did Dumbledore get off to?" questioned Sirius.

"Went to, in his words, have an unscheduled meeting with the Minister." Amusement danced in Harry's eyes as he said this. He thought of something. "Bill… where did you disappear to this morning?"

"I was summoned to Gringotts rather early this morning… rather interesting artefact was brought in from Iran with a few rather startling protections on it… needless to say, my services were needed."

"Right. Forgot about that."

"So you're on call?" questioned Owen.

"Something like that. There are a few of us, but—"

"He's just the most skilled," Harry smirked, standing. "Right. We'll be in the study."

"We'll be in as well, our… work won't bother you guys?" inquired Owen.

"Your music, you mean? No, 'course not," answered Harry, as Matt also stood.

"What did you do to your hair?" Justin pointed to Matt's hair.

"Harry fixed it up for the hearing."

"Right."

"Speaking of which." Harry gestured at Matt's hair with his hand, restoring it to original appearance.

"Yes, right. Next thing to do. This look doesn't fit me," said Matt.

"I think it does," Harry hissed, playfully. That got a smirk from Bill, and Matt felt his face get warm. "Mind you… if you don't like it…" Harry suddenly gestured at the guy, banishing his clothes, save for his boxers.

Matt blinked. The guy did NOT just do that. Awkward was the most gentle way to say it. He fled the room, feeling more than his face turning red.

"I believe Mr. Tyson has just been pranked," Ron grinned, while Hermione was doing a very good imitation of Matt at this point, blushing profusely. After all, the guy had a VERY good figure. His band mates were also in various states of shock… Owen cleared his throat more than once, while Patrick only shook his head. Justin only sat there, mouth hanging open.

"Wow. Remind us not to get on your bad side, Potter," Owen finally managed.

"Come join us in the study," said Harry, again, "I'll share the memory from this morning's events." He left the room.

Stepping into the bedroom, he found Matt fumbling with a pair of jeans. He was still quite red in more places than just his face. "Wanker, can't believe you did that," he muttered.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Harry snickered, gesturing at himself, changing the robes and dress clothes for a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.

"And why is it Mr. Tyson came into the room in just his underclothes?" inquired James.

"Your son decided I no longer needed my clothes—while we were in the dining room nonetheless," Matt scowled.

"Well, son, look at it this way. He pranks because he cares."

"Right. Now if I could find the clothes you banished… I need my wallet." Harry only gestured again with a hand, and Matt's missing robes appeared folded neatly on the bed, his missing wallet and its hardware on top.

"How hard is it to do that?"

"What, banish things? That's on the same scale as the summoning charm," answered Harry, as he watched Matt re-secure the wallet to his person with the chain, which he snapped to his belt. The wallet was slid into his back pocket. "There. Now I feel normal again."

"Normal? Mate, you'll never be normal… you're a freak just like me," Harry smirked. He checked himself over, then had a quick look at Cedric, making sure he was stable—Mrs. Diggory hadn't floo'ed in just yet. "Right. To the study, then." He left the room. "Shit… Matt… grab the pensieve off the dresser, we'll need it."

"Got it." Matt turned back into the room, and went over to the dresser. The pensieve was sitting on the end of it, along with various other items, including a most curious instrument. He'd not gotten a close look at it before. He knew better than to touch it, remembering Harry's dire warning about the dangers of numerous items in his home.

As fate would have it, in the process of lifting the pensieve off the dresser, Matt inadvertently bumped the strange device, sending it crashing to the floor. It made a strange buzzing noise and glowed red for a moment, then fell silent.

"Fuck." Matt cursed, debating whether to dare pick it up. No, better to just let Harry know, he decided, and left it where it had fell.

Returning to the study, he set the pensieve on the left-most conference table—it seemed that was the one they were using, and said, "Harry… one of the things on the dresser… I sort of knocked it over."

"You didn't touch it?"

"No… bumped it with the pensieve."

"Don't worry about it. I'll deal with it," Harry said, standing. He returned to his room, and guided the device back onto the dresser with a gesture from his hand. He returned to the study to find Matt's band mates had joined him, as had the twins, Ron, and Hermione.

"Jiro and Zack decided they wanted to be elsewhere," said Ron, darkly.

"Oh?" He noted his best friend was messaging his right hand.

"He really has to go," said Owen, with a scowl, "Holy fuck that guy's got no social filter whatsoever."

"What did he say this time?"

"Did a nice impression of Snape," answered Ron, "Calling Hermione an insufferable know-it-all."

"Hold your hand out," said Harry, frowning. Ron obliged, and Harry gestured at it with his hand. "Episkey." Ron winced as the tendons and joints healed themselves. "Next time just curse him," said Harry, with a shrug. "He'll learn eventually."

"But why do you put up with him?" Ron persisted, "He's a git!"

"Ditto," Matt muttered.

"Because the twins need to mine them for every scrap of information they have and then some. If it weren't for that reason, I would have sent them out of here a long time ago. Him attacking Matt was enough as it was."

"Harry… just leave it," said Matt.

"Yes, right… no sense getting all in a twist about it…" Harry produced his wand, placed it at his temple, and drew a silvery strand from it, then dropped it in the shimmering liquid in the pensieve. "Gather 'round, then, and stick a finger in…"

"So you've got full wand rights, then?" questioned Fred, as he pulled out of the pensieve. Others were quickly following.

"Yeah. They can't punish me for defending myself again," said Harry.

"It's disturbing how the Wizengamot was just going to accept whatever the Minister said, though. How can they get away with that?" Hermione sounded frustrated.

"It's the sheep mentality," answered Harry, "That's one of the problems I'm fighting here. Even after Voldemort is gone, we'll still be fighting the same issues."

The discussion seemed to go nowhere, and not long after, "Thrice Defied" retreated to the corner of the room where they had their equipment set up. Harry ended up setting up a dampening barrier so they didn't disturb the others, and made a mental note to add a room in the second trunk for them to permanently set up their equipment. This was a study and library, after all, not a concert hall.

Harry sat back, as the discussion continued to buzz around him. Bill was absolutely right in what he had said earlier. The hearing had a positive result in the end: he was much further ahead this time around, as he was still a student at Hogwarts. Equally important… he was an adult wizard in the eyes of the government. Perhaps, that might make all the difference in the world.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: Cookies go out to Exodiano, for correctly guessing Matt's band is indeed based on "Bullet For My Valentine", an awesome metal band out of the U.K. They've opened for Metallica, done several covers of their music, and their own stuff is not half-bad either… of course, I might be biased there :D_

_Of course, this chapter most certainly references the title of chapter eight from "Order of the Phoenix". The tube stations have been nailed down somewhat thanks to the HP Lexicon, a most useful tool for any fanfiction author._

_This will be the last chapter published before Christmas... and so... from my family to yours, have a happy Christmas, I hope it's a magical one! I'll see about getting another chapter out sometime next week, but no promises.  
_

_(1) Parts taken from p. 114 – 125, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian soft-cover edition. Some of it verbatim, other sections reworked for the extra character._

_(2) Taken from p. 127 – 138, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition. Some of it verbatim, but also reworked to fit Harry's different attitude._


	19. Nightmares Revisited

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __kehlencrow, Thenchick, and zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_CHAPTER SUMMARY: The trunk gets another resident; Another one of Harry's nightmares has a nasty substitution._

_CAUTION: Mild spoilers for "Deathly Hallows"._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XVIII-  
NIGHTMARES REVISITED**

**Or, another of Harry's nightmares has a nasty substitution**

**

* * *

  
**

Two days later, Harry finally turned his attention to several items that needed to be taken care of, which had been shuttled off to the side, dealing with the fiasco that had been his birthday.

Both involved the addition of an extra room, one of which was installed in the second trunk. The first of which was a room for Cedric, so Mrs. Diggory could be with him without disturbing Harry, Bill, or Matt. That morning had been awkward enough as it was.

Once that was finished mid-morning, he and Bill moved Cedric into the new room. A second queen-sized bed was also added in the event his parents wished to stay overnight, or perhaps longer. It certainly wouldn't bother Harry, after all.

Of course, it took a bit of coaxing on the part of Bill for Harry to leave Cedric's side, once everything was set up. Bill knew all too well how deeply Harry's relationship had truly gone with the kid. He realized, just as Matt had, if Cedric did not survive, it would destroy Harry.

The second piece of business involved setting up some sort of studio for Matt and his band. He'd asked the guys to come up wish some sort of plan for how they would like the space organized, and Owen had passed him a drawing that morning at breakfast. "Hope it's not too much trouble," he had said.

The plan called for a main common area, in which they could set up their equipment. Four large rooms were set off of it from the side, with two smaller, narrow rooms set off the back. A large bathroom was included in the plan as well. Harry quickly realized they meant to use this space as their own apartment, much like Jiro and Zachariah had done. He silently hoped Matt wasn't planning on joining them.

Seeing the plan, he had the guys empty their rooms, and he removed them, then started a new, larger space. It might have been easier to put the new space in the second trunk, but Harry realized Matt would likely want to stay close to his band mates. The guy had already moved some of his stuff into Harry's room, so it certainly countered his earlier thought… the guy was not going anywhere soon.

As he worked, he thought about the current situation between himself, Bill, and Matt. Once Cedric returned, it was going to be a handful to say the least. Never mind having four guys sharing one room! It was already a nuisance as it was if anyone needed to visit the bathroom in the middle of the night. 'Add an additional task to the pile,' he thought to himself.

The issue of balancing two, perhaps three partners at once? That was not exactly a new thing to the boy-who-lived. His mind drifted back to a time not long after he had lost Bill. He had met two guys who were already in love with each other. Both of them were Muggles, but they took Harry in quite easily, not minding the triangle it formed. They loved each other equally, and trusted each other equally, forming a rather unique dynamic.

Of course, there was no guarantee that would play out again. Cedric was most certainly aware of his previous relationship with Bill, but he hadn't said anything pro or con with regards to it. Then again, he hadn't had a chance to! Worse off, there was the fact he could very likely not survive the terrible curse Malfoy Sr. had nailed him with. Even as Harry worked, the boy lay motionless on his bed in another part of the trunk.

He again took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. Yet, he found himself once again thinking about everything that had happened so far since his return from the future. Even with the change he had made at the end of June, Voldemort had still found a way to return. Dementors had still attacked him at his relatives' place. He had STILL faced the Wizengamot for a simple offence of under-aged magic. Sure, he was still a student at Hogwarts, unlike the last time around, but the principle was the same: he was not much further ahead than he had been the last time. Maybe it just wasn't worth it. Whatever he was fighting was above and beyond just Voldemort.

He was interrupted just before supper by both Snape and Dumbledore.

"Harry, we have a small problem."

"What's happened?" Harry joined the headmaster and Snape at the door.

"The Malfoys were attacked a short while ago by the Dark Lord personally," said Snape.

"Good. They deserve it," Harry hissed, a number of memories cropping up in his mind, each of them an attack from the senior Malfoy, several of them personal. Not to mention, what he had done to Cedric!

"Draco is presently at St. Mungo's, with a 'round the clock guard," said Dumbledore, "He requires a much more secure location once he is in better condition."

"So… what, you want me to let him in here?!"

"I understand the two of you don't exactly get along, but as it stands, your trunk is more secure than Grimmauld Place, and you do know the rules prohibiting students from staying at Hogwarts over the summer holidays," said Dumbledore.

"Yeah, I know." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Just great… his arch nemesis sharing his private space! "Fine. But I swear to everything holy, should he cause me trouble, or… anyone else for that matter, he'll be making a very fast return trip to St. Mungo's… as a puddle of GOO. Is that clear?"

"We will have a meeting with him before he is brought here so you have a chance to explain things to him, Harry," said Dumbledore, "He can be a good person, you and I both know that."

"Yeah, I guess. I did want to approach him… just not this quickly!" said Harry, sounding frustrated, "Given my track record so far… it's probably not gonna be pretty—what set him off? Voldemort, I mean?"

"He questioned Lucius, asking if he was displeased at the Dark Lord's presence in his home," said Snape. Harry nodded.

"Right. That happened almost two years later my first time around. You were there too, professor." He gestured at Snape. "They were discussing my move from the Dursleys when I turned seventeen."

"Voldemort began to question Lucius' loyalty," Snape continued, "He was displeased, and attacked both Lucius and Narcissa. Draco, the foolish boy, decided to intervene."

"That should make it easier for you to talk to him," Dumbledore pointed out. Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Bloody stupid, trying to attack Voldemort. Professor, he's gonna need protection from his own house come the start of the school year."

"I'm aware of that, Potter." Just then, Dobby popped into the room, announcing, "Supper is being ready, it is!"

"Thanks, Dobby. Professors, care to join us?" The elf popped away.

"I must decline, Harry," answered Dumbledore.

"As do I. I will be returning to St. Mungo's."

"Right, of course, your godson," Harry remembered. Snape only inclined his head, and left.

"Professor… that's something else… the wards around the school. In what would have been my sixth year, you had them strengthened."

"We've already been working on that. Make no mistake, Harry, I take everything you have shared with me very seriously. I believe this is a glorious opportunity to correct a few mistakes, some of those being on my own part."

"Thank you, sir."

"And you do plan on starting up your defence club once again?"

"I do. Particularly should a certain pink toad become Dark Arts Defence professor, but most likely no matter what. It would be better if the club is actually sanctioned."

"I agree. I do need to get back to Hogwarts, however, and you should be off to be with your friends."

It was August 8th before Draco was well enough to be released from St. Mungo's. He was taken back to Hogwarts via port key, directly to the headmaster's office. His godfather was already present, as was McGonagall, a red-haired man—another Weasel, he groaned inwardly… and a dark-haired man who looked vaguely familiar. Wait… is that Potter? A glance to the guy's forehead gave him all the confirmation.

"Potter… what happened to you?" he managed.

"Hell, is what happened, Malfoy," answered his arch-nemesis. "Professor, might I borrow your pensieve?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the cabinet to the side of the room with his wand. The pensieve floated out of it to land on the desk. Harry was already pulling out a lengthy stream of memories from his head using his left index finger, a motion not lost on Draco.

"Malfoy… stick a finger in and have a look," said Harry, indicating the pensieve. He produced his wand and held it in front of him, speaking, "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that the contents held within this pensieve are accurate and true, so mote it be." Everyone watched the swirl of golden magic burrow itself into his chest, and vanish. "Proof… Lumos," spoke Harry, lighting the tip of his wand. "Nox. Just to be clear, I play no tricks here."

Everyone remained silent as Draco viewed the memories. Harry had debated many times as it was on how he would approach the Slytherin over the past few days—this had to be the best idea, as it left no room for Draco to challenge things. The wizard's oath covered that. It was the only chance Harry had to get through to the boy, and if this failed, there would not be a second.

The boy finally emerged from the pensieve sometime later, looking paler than he had ever been. He was clearly shocked and stunned at what he had just witnessed. "I… I will never…" Draco stuttered.

"Draco… Harry is agreeing for you to stay with him until school resumes," said Dumbledore, while Harry retrieved his memories from the pensieve.

"But sir, why can't I just stay here with Severus? I promise I won't be trouble…"

"Malfoy, it's not allowed, I asked that enough times the previous few years," said Harry, "And where I'm staying right now, no one can find us."

"I don't—" he began, then fell silent.

"Need protecting?" Harry said, "Malfoy, look. Tom attacked you directly. In other words, you're dead the second he realizes you're still alive. How long do you think that will take, given how many spies he has in the ministry?"

"…"

"Harry is right, Draco," said Dumbledore, "For you to be out in the open will mean your death."

"And if I can help prevent that, all the better," said Harry. Just then, a large barn owl fluttered through the open window to light on Dumbledore's desk, extending a leg, on which was tied a letter. The headmaster took it, and quickly read it. "Forgive me, but I must take leave to answer a call at the ministry. Minerva and Severus, I leave you to finish up here." He stepped up to the fireplace, tossed a handful of floo powder into the grate, then spoke, "Ministry of magic!" then stepped into the flames and vanished.

"Let's take this back to the trunk," Harry decided, standing. He gestured with a hand, banishing the chair he had conjured. That got a look of surprise from Draco. "Professor Snape, you can bring him through in a minute, I still have to add him to the access list." Snape inclined his head, while Harry activated the floo, and vanished, the red-haired man in tow—Draco now knew him to be Bill, the oldest of the Weasley children.

Less than a minute later, Draco and Snape stepped out of the floo, into the trunk's common room. Harry was already waiting.

"This way," he said. Just then, the floo fired a second time, and McGonagall stepped out. Harry waited for her to get her bearings, then led the group back to the study.

"Where have your Muggle friends gone, Mr. Potter?" inquired McGonagall.

"I gave them their own flat," answered Harry, taking a seat at the single enlarged conference table. That had been done at the suggestion of Sirius, since the Order was effectively meeting there most of the time.

"Of course, Matt is still staying with Harry," Bill smirked.

"Never mind the fact you also share my bed…"

"Exhibitionist," Bill teased.

"You opened the door by dragging it up in the first place," said Harry, who then stuck his tongue out at Bill.

"And what of Diggory?" questioned Draco, "What, of COURSE I knew about that, the whole bloody school knows, Potter!"

"Right… Hogwarts grapevine, works faster than the Prophet sometimes. What do you know about Voldemort's return?"

"He attacked you at your relatives'," answered Draco, taking a seat at the table.

"Yeah, and attacked Cedric too. I'm not going into it, but there's only a small chance he'll survive," said Harry. Draco only nodded in understanding. Now was not the time for snide remarks. Just then, Ron, Hermione, and another man Draco had never seen before stepped into the room. The guy had shoulder-length black hair with a single streak of white on the right side. He was dressed in Muggle clothing, but had a wand holster strapped to his right forearm.

"Harry—what's HE doing here?" Ron hissed, jabbing a finger toward Draco.

"I might ask the same, WEASEL," Draco hissed back, making to get up.

"Sit DOWN, Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, sternly. The boy relaxed slightly, but continued to glare daggers at Ron.

"What, did you think I wouldn't share this—" he gestured around him, "—with my best friends? Of COURSE I will!"

"I'll just be leaving now, then," Draco decided, a look of disdain on his face.

"Your funeral," said Harry, with a shrug, "But I'll tell you this. I know how Voldemort works. Second he knows you're alive, he will hunt you down like a dog. You crossed a dangerous line."

"You attacked Voldemort too?" questioned the stranger.

"He killed my parents! What would you EXPECT me to do? Who the hell are you anyway?" questioned Draco, as the stranger occupied a seat to Harry's right.

"This is Matt," said Harry, "He's made the same mistake you have. Although his attack was… well… it infuriated him far more."

"How?"

"I attacked him with a jack knife", said Matt.

"A what?"

"It's a Muggle pocket knife," answered Harry. Draco mouthed, 'O'. Attacking the Dark Lord with a Muggle weapon? Nope, definitely not smart. "So, it was either stay with me here, or become Voldemort's play thing. He'll just kill you, Malfoy."

The boy slumped back into his chair. Of course, Potter was right. By attacking the Dark Lord, he had made his allegiance very clear. There was no choice in the matter, no matter HOW much he detested Granger and the Weasel. Potter was his only hope of survival at this point.

Harry, meanwhile, sat back, carefully thinking over the situation. This was most certainly a dramatic change in direction. It was clear Draco realized exactly where he stood, and the situation he found himself in. This would be easier than expected.

"Harry… here's another thing to think about," said Bill, "Voldemort has made a critical mistake, eliminating the Malfoys. Fudge won't be taking bribes from him anymore."

"Hmmm… true," Harry agreed, "Although I doubt it will take long for Voldemort to find a replacement. Fudge is a corrupt bastard who won't hesitate to take bribes from others, as long as it protects his position. He was easy to get to first time around, and I don't think that changes here. The sooner they get rid of him, the better. Like I said, he's got his head shoved so far up his own ass he's been blinded by his own shit."

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall looked scandalized, while Snape was doing his best to keep his indifferent mask fixed on his face, although the corners of his mouth were twitching. Matt sat there for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"What? It's true," said Harry, "And that foul Umbridge woman. She snapped my wand the first time around. I'll make DAMNED sure she doesn't last a week as a teacher."

"Trust me, Potter, I won't hesitate to assist with that," said Snape.

"Umbridge… who is she?" questioned Draco.

"Senior undersecretary to the minister," supplied Bill, "But Harry's spot on in that she's a most foul woman. A strong supporter of the pure-blood movement."

"That about sums it up," said Harry, "But she's particularly cruel. She tortured first years the first time around!"

"With what, Potter?" questioned McGonagall.

"A blood quill."

"She did not!"

"I swear it, she did. But trust me, the first time she tries something like that, it'll be her last. She won't be torturing friends… or enemies alike. I'll permanently transfigure her into the toad she is long before."

"Well… as noble as your words are, Mr. Potter, I can't condone nor allow you to… well… to take any sort of action against a teacher," said McGonagall.

"She's not a teacher yet. Just pretend you didn't hear that, professor. She won't ever know it's me," said Harry, gesturing at himself. His appearance changed once again, to the one he had used on his second visit to Diagon Alley. He was unrecognizable. McGonagall pursed her lips, clearly not in approval of Harry's plan, but said nothing. "Just exercising my Slytherin side," he added, restoring his 'older' appearance. That once again had the corners of Snape's mouth twitching, and McGonagall scowling. "What, the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. I asked it not to."

"Really?" questioned Draco, appearing surprised.

"Our first meeting… you didn't exactly make a good impression on me," said Harry, with a shrug, "And Ron… you didn't really help things either."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, spouting on about Slytherin being the house of snakes and that everyone in there is evil? On a very impressionable eleven-year old? By the time we got to the sorting, Slytherin was the LAST place I wanted to end up. The thing is, I'm embracing that side of myself a little more," Harry smirked, "Older and wiser, as the saying goes, I guess."

"Indeed, Potter," spoke Snape, "Your father would roll over in his grave should he ever know that."

"Hmmm… maybe need to speak with my parents' portrait later," Harry smirked.

"Sir, why are you being so… well… nice to Potter?" questioned Draco, looking rather confused.

"Draco, there are things going on you still don't know about nor understand," spoke Snape, "You are no fool and you'll do well to take heed to what Potter has shown you here this morning."

"I know, sir. I know. I just find it hard, with… everything I know is wrong."

"Of course it's wrong," said Harry, "You've been brainwashed by your father, your mother, and who knows who else into believing all this dragon shit about pure-blood supremacy. It's all bullocks! We need witches and wizards like Hermione just as much as we need witches and wizards like you and me."

"But…"

"But what? They're polluting our blood? No, they're bringing NEW blood in. At the rate we're going, we'll breed ourselves out of existence without…" Harry made a sour face, but continued, "Without… Mudbloods." That got a sour look from McGonagall and Hermione both. "Sorry for the calloused term, but, we need Muggle-borns as much as we need half-bloods and pure-bloods to survive. Draco, I really would rather us be on the same page, than at each other's throat. Because, point blank, this year you will lose badly. You want to be on the winning side, right?"

"Who says your side is the winning side?"

"I do, Draco," said Snape, coldly, "This…" he pulled up his left sleeve, revealing the dark mark tattooed on his forearm, "leads to nothing but death and destruction, your own included. Is that truly what you want?"

"Or would you instead like a chance at a happy life, maybe have a family and a future? That's what I offer," said Harry, "I don't promise it, because I can't. I am confident in the chances, though."

Draco seemed to think on it for a few moments, digesting what both his godfather and Potter had to say. Indeed, as he had spoken only a few moments earlier, everything he knew was wrong. It wasn't Potter who had chosen poorly when they met in first year. It had been he, Draco. This boy-become-man sitting only a few feet away from him was then showing more compassion and understanding than anyone had ever showed him, even after the terrifying future he had lived. Had the tables been reversed, Draco knew it would be quite a different outcome. He realized that, even with the pensieve memories he had just been shown, he still knew absolutely nothing about Harry Potter. Perhaps it was time he did. Draco made a decision.

"Perhaps… we should wipe the slate clean," Draco said, standing, and offering a hand across the table. Harry stood up, gripping it firmly. "Harry Potter."

"Draco Malfoy."

"This is all well and good, but… what's he here for?" questioned Ron, uneasily.

"Four days ago, during a meeting at Malfoy Manor, the Dark Lord attacked and killed Draco's parents after their loyalty came into question," supplied Snape.

"I've agreed to help keep Draco protected," Harry continued, "But, there will be conditions. I hold you to it, wiping the slate clean, Draco. You can't be mean and nasty toward my friends, that just pisses them and me off. You'll find yourself evicted from my home, rather painfully. Think of it as your last chance. Do we have an understanding?" Draco only nodded. "Good. Draco. Prove to me there are good people in Slytherin. Prove my best friend wrong—he can be rather thick sometimes."

"Harry!" Ron looked scandalized, while Hermione let out a giggle. That got another glare from Ron.

"What, it's true!" she defended. That got a grin from Harry.

"If everything is well and good here, perhaps it's best I get back to my office," said McGonagall, standing, "As it is with the headmaster, should you need anything, do feel free to floo my office."

"I'll do that, professor. If I don't see you before, I'll see you at the start of school." The deputy headmistress went over to the fireplace, activated the floo, and was gone.

"Potter… might I speak with your mother again?" questioned Snape.

"Of course. They're still in my room," said Harry. Snape, too, left the room, robes billowing behind him.

"Your parents? I thought they were dead," said Draco.

"They are. They left me a portrait, and your godfather's been chatting with them—err… my mum, specifically."

"What for? Why would he be interested in—"

"Snape and my mum had a relationship before Hogwarts," answered Harry, "But it's not my story to tell. It's his, all right?" He stood up. "Anyway. I'll show you to your rooms."

The room had been decorated quite tastefully with light woods, and dark trim. Several deep green rugs adorned the floors, with matching drapes which framed the fake windows.

"You did this?" questioned Draco, looking about the room.

"Yeah, pretty much," answered Harry, "Most of the work here is mine, except for a few things Cedric helped me with."

"How… how far along—I mean, you're from the future, so—how much can you do?"

"Magic-wise? I don't know, well above NEWT-level, I know that much. Some Auror-level protections and curses, and shit that I'll never share with anyone. I know of some things that Dumbledore would most definitely not approve of."

"The golden boy going a bit dark?" Draco arched an eyebrow, and Harry let out a snicker. "Yeah, that's exactly what he'd think. But what you saw in the pensieve, that's only a slice of what I went through. That world… it's a world I wish not to experience again."

"No. Agreed on that, Potter. Can't believe I actually attempted to kill the headmaster—in the future. I may not like him, but—"

"He's only working for the better of our world. Voldemort isn't. He'll be the cause of our end."

"But letting Mu-muggle-borns in… that's not the answer either!"

"Why not? We'll breed ourselves into oblivion if we don't. We've been given an amazing gift, what right do we have to tell someone they can't learn how to use it just because of where they came from or how they got it? Think about it, like, really think about it. Hermione's a pretty bright witch, no?"

"I… I guess."

"Yet, Crabbe and Goyle—tell me something, can either of them actually read and write?" That got a scandalous look from Draco. "Thought so. There's proof right there. Pureblood, and both of them—"

"Thick as bricks?" Harry let out another snicker, and said, "Exactly. Think carefully about all the hype around pureblood supremacy. Does it really make sense? Don't get me wrong, it's okay to be proud of where you came from. But to sneer and frown at others because of who they are? What right do we have?"

"You might make a good politician one day, Potter."

"Over my dead body," Harry vowed, "But… there are things that have to change if our world is to survive, and better, thrive again."

"But you realize what kind of fight you have ahead of you," Draco pointed out, "Centuries of beliefs aren't going to just go away overnight."

"No, you're right. It will take a wide-scale effort from many people. It's that, or we die off. It's as simple as that. That won't happen overnight, but it's coming. It's already started. The war with Grindelwald helped things along, as did the first war with Voldemort. Our world can't take another clash with Voldemort." Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Matt framed the doorway. "Just about done?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I think I got it. The levitation charm," said Matt.

"Great. Let's see."

"That's a first year charm. You don't know it?" Draco arched an eyebrow, while Matt performed the incantation, causing a pillow to lift off the bed.

"Excellent. Great work."

"Fucking difficult."

"But once you get the hang of it, it comes easier," said Harry.

"Why's he just learning that now?"

"I found out I was a wizard late," answered Matt, with a shrug.

"Oh," said Draco, "Mu-muggle-born, then."

"Yeah."

"He just got his wand at the beginning of the month. He's been doing quite well so far."

"Have you been tutoring him in potions yet?"

"Need a potions lab for that."

"Why didn't you ask Severus?"

"Haven't exactly had time, Malfoy," answered Harry, with a slightly irritated tone, "It's been one mess after another."

"If you would set aside some space, perhaps I could look after that."

"Great. I can do that. I'll build a room directly across the corridor. Feel free to use the floo to get whatever you need."

"What else has he been learning?" Draco again gestured at Matt.

"All the first year classes, of course."

"I'm still not getting my head around the 'matchstick to needle' thing," said Matt.

"Like I said, it just takes practice."

"Hermione said the same thing."

"Either way, take a break from it, celebrate your success."

By the time Harry had finished adding yet another room to the second trunk, he was exhausted. Snape had gotten word about what Harry was up to, and had made more than a few suggestions on the layout of the room, and had assisted in a few places. In particular, he added a few protection spells which would limit damage from spilled potions or exploded cauldrons and such.

It was during that work that Snape himself at last got a true idea of where Harry was at with regards to his magical strength. The boy-turned-man was truly a powerful wizard, making the transfigurations with ease, conjuring things as if it were child's play—most witches and wizards found conjuration one of the most difficult branches of magic to grasp, let alone master. Yet, for Harry, it was coming naturally. When he and the Dark Lord faced off, it would be a titanic battle, there was no doubt.

It was near 2 am before Harry at last gave in to the urge to sleep. The potions lab was complete—Snape and Draco would help stock the stores with ingredients. Draco was offering to help tutor Matt in potions, starting with first year. Harry had decided immediately after to actually sit in on a few of those, as potions was still not one of his strong areas.

He stepped into his room, finding the lights dimmed, and one figure already stretched out on the bed: Bill. The door Harry had installed leading to the band's studio next door was open, laughter wafted in from it, with a few notes from a guitar (although the sound was somewhat diminished thanks to a noise-dampening charm placed over the doorway). The guys were still at work on something.

Harry wasted no time undressing and climbing into bed. By the sounds of it, Matt would be some time before he joined them, but to Harry, that was quite all right. The guy hadn't slept elsewhere since their discussion the day before the trial. He was attached to Harry more deeply than he realized, even now. He swore at times he could pick up his thoughts and emotions without even trying. Sure, he was a strong legilimens, but this was above and beyond it—almost like what he used to feel with Voldemort. 'Better that than the splitting headache', Harry thought to himself, cuddling up against Bill. He was already in a deep sleep. It wasn't long after before Harry too was sound asleep.

_Harry once again found himself staring up through wooden boards at the headmaster, the moonlight dimly lighting the astronomy tower. Dumbledore didn't seem as frail as he had, but yet…_

"_Good evening, Matthew," said Dumbledore._

_Harry looked up, and could see the new speaker on the other side of the room, his wand trained on the old man. 'Matt? What the hell are you doing?' "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"_

"_Who else is here? I thought… I heard Potter," demanded Matt, harshly._

"_I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful," answered Dumbledore, appearing to be un-wavered by the threat._

_The conversation seemed to be a blur, with no discernable dialogue, until Matt actually disarmed the headmaster, sending his wand clattering off to the side—just like what Draco had done. More conversation, until…_

"_Well done, Mr. __Tyson__, well done." Belletrix, Harry realized._

"_Good evening, Belletrix," said Dumbledore, as if he were welcoming guests for afternoon tea. Matt, meanwhile, looked slightly confused. "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"_

"_Love to, Albus, but I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule," Belletrix answered curtly, barely a whisper that cracked like a whip, then to Matt, "Do it!"_

"_No, look, he's fighting it," spoke another. The man's face was covered in hair. Fenir Greyback, Harry recognized. "Allow me to finish them off in my own special way. Both the Muggle-lover and the magic-stealer."_

"_NO! The magic-stealer is to be kept for the Dark Lord!" Belletrix hissed, then to Matt, "DO IT!" A green flash of light filled the scene._

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: I know… a mind-f__k, isn't it? Yet, there are some things that just write themselves, and this was one of them._

_As to Harry and Draco's 'relationship', as I see it now, the two of them will never be best friends. There's just too much underlying animosity there, four years worth and then some. They will likely have a good working relationship, and be strong allies, but that's it. Sorry, Draco/Harry shippers!_


	20. Advancing the Agenda

_Happy New Year!!! __Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: jgood27, Thenchick, and zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_WARNING: S__poilers for "Half Blood Prince" and "Deathly Hallows", coarse language._

_Date of posting: January 3, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER IXX-  
ADVANCING THE AGENDA**

**Or, Harry continues to undermine the Dark Lord**

**

* * *

**Matt and his band mates were just about to start playing again, when a horrible scream reverberated through the trunk. It was followed a split second later by several doors opening in the corridor. Matt already knew where it came from, and wasted no time un-strapping his guitar, setting it in its cradle. He stepped through the door into Harry's room, and found Bill was already comforting the guy. "Help," was all he said.

Not long ago, Matt would have balked at the idea of cuddling with ONE guy, never mind TWO! Yet, now he did not hesitate, joining Bill, already doing his best to comfort Harry. Whatever it was, it had rattled the guy greatly. A nightmare, likely.

Just then, there was a knock at the door leading to the corridor.

"Harry? All right in there, kiddo?" came Sirius' voice.

"Mr. Black… come in," said Matt, decidedly. The door opened, and Harry's godfather stepped into the room, dressed in a housecoat, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, wand at the ready. "What happened?"

"A nightmare, I think," answered Bill, looking up, "See if he's got any calming draughts left in his potion stores. A dreamless sleep as well."

"Matt… he okay?" questioned Owen, then framing the doorway into their studio.

"Dunno. I'm done for the night, gotta take care of this."

"S'all right, we'll call it a night, then." Owen stepped back inside the studio, and the door closed.

"Sorry… I ruined your night," Harry mumbled.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault. What happened?" questioned Matt, while Sirius fumbled around in the potions stores.

"Dumbledore's death… y-you were there…" said Harry, unevenly, "Nasty… substitution."

"One calming draught, and one dreamless sleep potion," said Sirius, presenting both. Harry immediately took the calming draught, he was still shaking like a leaf, after all.

Then, another knock at the door, and both twins then framed the doorway.

"All right there, Harry?" questioned George.

"Yeah, fine, guys. Bad dream." Harry thought for a moment. "Guess the whole trunk heard me… bloody hell."

"Harry… it's not your fault," said Bill, "We know your future isn't exactly pleasant."

"That's putting it mildly," Harry snorted, "I just wish these would stop! Bad enough I experience them at all, I don't need the rest of you being woken up in the dead of the night because of it!"

"Harry… maybe it's time you speak with a mind healer. Madam Pomfrey might be able to refer you to someone," Bill suggested.

"We're going back to bed, then," said Fred, and both twins left.

"It won't help, and besides, that would mean sharing my future with another stranger." Harry held out a hand for the dreamless sleep potion. "For now, this will do fine." He downed the potion.

It was late in the morning before Harry finally woke—the dreamless sleep potion tended to do that after all. He had planned on tending to several issues that day, but the nightmare that morning put a damper on it. So, while his clone dealt with fetching a certain locket for Kreacher, Harry himself would be making another trip to Diagon Alley to see about correcting his eyesight—Bill had mentioned something about it a few days before.

Once lunch was finished, Harry produced his clone, then practically dragged Bill through the floo to the Leaky Cauldron. He chose to stay with his younger appearance today, rather than switch to his older glamour, since he at this point didn't really need to hide. Not to mention, a confrontation in the middle of Diagon Alley wouldn't be pretty… at least not for the other party.

As luck would have it, the alley was not all that busy at the time—the book lists for the upcoming school year hadn't been sent out yet, and so very few students were about. The pair began making their way toward the far end of the alley, where a number of smaller storefronts were set up, including Ollivander's. On the way, the group passed No. 93 Diagon Alley, an at present vacant building, and Harry had to grin.

"What?" questioned Bill, seeing Harry's expression.

"Something about the future and your twin brothers," answered the boy-turned-man, "I won't say much more than that."

"Phinias' House of Magical Enhancements?" Harry read the sign over the shop, nearly the last on the street. The place had all sorts of strange gadgets and devices on display in the shop windows, including an identical prosthetic to what Mad-Eye Moody had.

"Just about anything you can imagine as far as enhancements for witches and wizards in need," said Bill, as they stepped into the shop.

"Ah, good morning—Mr. Potter! What can I do for you?" spoke an elderly gentleman, surprised, coming out from behind the counter.

"I need to get rid of these," said Harry, gesturing to his glasses, "Bill here says you might be able to help."

"Help, yes, of course!" He gestured with his wand, which he produced, causing several items to pop up on the counter. "May I see your glasses?"

"Right." Harry passed the shop keeper his glasses, which he placed in one of the strange gadgets he had summoned.

"Hmmmm… when was the last time you had any sort of eye examination?"

"I don't remember… it was a while ago," answered Harry.

"Very well, then." The shop keeper gestured with his wand again. "Hold still while I conduct a test." Harry nodded, and the wizard gestured once, muttering an incantation, which caused a slight tingling sensation around his eyes. A series of numbers started wafting from the tip of the wizard's wand, which was also being jotted down quickly by a quill working by itself.

"Can we trust that?" questioned Harry, not wanting a repeat performance concerning bewitched quills.

"Yes, it's a dicta-quill," answered the shop keeper.

"That vile Skeeter woman used a quill similar to that one."

"A quick-quotes quill, I should imagine," the shop keeper spoke darkly, "Most inappropriate for something as important as this. Right, that should just about do it. Now I would assume you want something other than glasses?"

"If you can."

"I can do exactly that. I was shown something Muggles use in place of glasses sometimes, but being a wizard, I know we can do better. They are based on the same principal, except that they are spelled to auto-correct. So, as your prescription changes, they will adjust."

"Exactly what I need," said Harry, sounding impressed.

"Add to that extra comfort charms, auto cleaning, and so on, they have none of the inconveniences that plague what you might get in the Muggle world."

"How much will it cost?"

"200 galleons per eye," answered the shop keeper.

"A little expensive, but that's fine. We'll pop over to Gringotts, if you don't mind getting started."

"Very well, Mr. Potter."

The magical contacts he ended up with were exactly as he had hoped for. Unlike their Muggle counterparts, as the shopkeeper explained, they were enhanced with comfort charms, self-lubricating and self-cleaning charms, making it unnecessary to remove them once they were inserted. They were also designed to automatically compensate, should his eyesight change.

The pair stopped at the stationary shop, where Harry purchased several blank portraits—another item of business he had been meaning to take care of. As much as he appreciated having his parents around, it might get rather uncomfortable should he and Bill decide to do things other than sleep. The blank portraits would allow his parents to move to other rooms in the trunk.

His clone, meanwhile, made the trip to the cave and the underground lake, where the fake Horcrux lay. This was a mission done alone, so only he was at risk. An offering of blood made, the passage revealed itself, and Harry quickly slipped inside.

Reaching the narrow beach to the lake, Harry expertly summoned the boat that would take him across to the small island in the middle, his destination for this exercise. The first time around, it had taken some time for he and Dumbledore to track down the exact whereabouts of the item, but as the old man had pointed out, "Magic always leaves traces."

When the boat touched the bank of the small island, Harry scrambled ashore, and took a moment to regain his bearings. A stronger light might be an idea, so one was conjured. The light he created actually lit up the entire cavern—the place was truly enormous. 'How had Voldemort found it,' he wondered. Back to the task at hand…

Fully aware of what his actions would do, he jabbed his wand into the still water, creating a ripple, and instantly the water began to boil with activity. Harry, however, was unconcerned. An army of Inferi were a cakewalk as far as he was concerned, having dealt with them numerous times. For the moment, he actually required one of them. He thrust his wand at the first slimy grey body emerging from the water, and slammed it up against the pedestal on the island. Another thrust of the wand, and a thick layer of ice instantly formed, trapping hundreds of the horrid beasts. Yet another gesture from his wand, and nothing would be getting within fifty feet of the small island.

Harry turned his attention back to the single vile creature he had thrown against the pedestal. Last time around, Dumbledore had consumed the mind-fuck that Voldemort had left in the basin. Harry knew better than to consume it himself. Torturing a foul creature with it on the other hand? Of course, it wouldn't do anything to it anyway, so… he again thrust his wand at it, binding it—the foul thing was already stirring. He just needed a body, a vessel that would 'drink' the potion.

One scoop after another of the foul potion was poured into the captured Inferius. As with the first time, it took several minutes before the basin was at last nearly empty, revealing the fake locket at the bottom.

Harry banished the Inferius, reached into the basin, and snatched the fake locket. "Good job, Regulus," he whispered, then, "Kreacher?!"

"Harry call for Kreacher?" spoke the elf, after appearing with a slight POP. He looked slightly startled, seeing the pedestal. 'Bad memories,' Harry thought. "Can you bring me back to the trunk? I have something for you when we get back," said Harry. The elf only nodded, holding out a hand. Harry took it, and they vanished with a noisy CRACK.

Reappearing in the common room of the trunk, Harry knelt down in front of the elf. "Like I promised, this is for you," said Harry, "It belonged to Regulus, and I'm sure he would have wanted you to have it."

Just like the first time around, the elf had a practical meltdown from the offering, throwing himself onto the ground, howling loud enough for the entire trunk to hear.

"What's going on?" questioned Sirius, entering from the corridor.

"Oh, I just gave Kreacher a present," Harry grinned, while the elf continued to wail. "He'll get over it."

"Sounds like someone's being murdered," said Owen, stepping into the room.

Just then, the floo fired, and the common room now had two Harrys present.

"All done, I take it?" spoke the newcomer. The clone indicated Kreacher, who was still a ball of nerves. "If that's it, I'm off." He vanished. Owen only shook his head, and retreated from where he'd come from. Harry, meanwhile, took a moment to sort through the small flood of memories that had just invaded him. 'Most creative solution,' he thought, seeing how his clone had dealt with the traps in the cave. 'Voldemort will be pissed when he sees my handiwork.' He reached into his pants pocket, and found a corked vial. He arched an eyebrow, seeing the memory associated with its collection. Wise thinking… a potion such as that one could be useful in certain situations.

"You gave Kreacher the fake locket," Bill guessed. Harry nodded, saying, "I promised him I would… it's just taken longer than I expected. And now that I think of it. Care to join me on another expedition?"

"Where to this time?"

"The Gaunt shack."

"Another Horcrux."

"Exactly."

"When do you plan on destroying those things anyway?" questioned Bill.

"Once I have all of them I can safely collect. Meaning, the ring and Hufflepuff's cup. That's something else I need to do now that I think of it." Harry knelt in front of the fireplace, and made a quick fire-call to the Longbottoms.

Meanwhile, Kreacher had last gotten over the overwhelming gesture from his 'young master', and had shuffled off back to the kitchen—most likely to prepare lunch. A time check proved that to be true, it was nearing 11:30. The expedition to the Gaunt shack would have to wait at least another day, then. Neville was on his way.

Indeed, only moments later, his year mate stepped out of the flames that had roared to life. He looked around the room, appearing surprised at the way it was decorated. "This is your place, Harry?"

"My trunk, yeah. Did you get lunch already?"

"No."

"Lunch should be ready soon. But for now, give me a second and we can go into the study." Harry pulled the three blank portraits out of his pocket and restored them to original size. "One for out here…" he gestured at one, increasing its size. He cast a sticking charm to the back of it, then stuck it above the fireplace.

"A blank portrait… who's it for?" questioned Neville.

"My mum and dad… they gave me a portrait, and it's been in my bedroom most of the time since I got this place."

"Oh… well that's good… that you can talk to them, I mean."

"Yeah, I know. I'll show you to the study. It's this way," said Harry, leading the boy across the room.

Passing one of the doors in the corridor, Neville cocked his head to the side, arching an eyebrow. "Who's in there?" Music was coming from the room.

"Some new friends. I'll introduce you later. In here, though…" Harry guided Neville into the study. He stopped short, seeing Draco seated at one end of the table, going over a stack of parchment. Even more shocking, Ron and Hermione occupied a couch in the recessed portion of the room, and although a book rested between them, studying was not what they were doing.

"Blimey!" said Neville, in a low voice, "I've stepped into a parallel universe!"

"And why do you say that?" Harry grinned.

"Well, Malfoy's sitting over there—" he gestured toward the conference table—"and Ron and Hermione are sitting over there—" he gestured to the couches—"and they're not about ready to curse each other."

"Oh. Well, that's already happened," answered Harry, although he grinned as he said it.

"Harry, what's going on?! What's Malfoy doing in your trunk?"

"A new arrangement, of sorts," answered Harry, "There are things you need to know, and I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" Neville nodded. "Great. Just wait here, I'll need to get my pensieve, it'll save my breath."

Neville sat back, stunned, after he exited the pensieve. Harry had shared two sets of memories: the first explaining his 'first time around', the second explaining some of the events that had happened recently. It was only fair, considering Neville had also been a strong ally the first time around. It would be no different this time around, if he had his way.

"Neville… I'll need to speak with your grandmother. I'll need her help."

"Right, of course. The Lestranges' vault."

"Yeah, something I've been meaning to ask, but as you can see, we've been rather busy up to this point."

"If I can borrow your floo, then…"

"Use that one…" Harry gestured at the fireplace where Ron and Hermione were cuddled in front of.

"Oh, Neville. Hi, mate," Ron greeted.

"Good summer so far?" questioned Neville, making his way over.

"So-so, I guess, all considering."

"Yes, right, sorry about your home… nasty business."

"We're all taken care of for now."

"And I'll help them rebuild," Harry added, "It was my fault Death Eaters showed up in the first place!"

"Harry… leave it for now… don't stress over it," Bill placated him. Harry blew out a breath… Bill was right, after all. With the number of spies in the ministry. Really, it was Voldemort's fault in the end.

Neville, meanwhile, knelt in front of the fire, activated it, and stuck his head in the now green flames.

"Guys… I have to key my parents to their new frames. If Neville finishes before—"

"We'll let him know," said Hermione.

"Great."

Stepping back into his room, the music coming from the studio was significantly louder with the absence of the muffling barrier over the doorway connecting the two rooms. Harry only grinned at the aggressive tones of their music—had he been a few years younger, he would not have appreciated the nuances of such music. Now, with the 'life experience' he had, the aggressive tone of "Thrice Defied" was most fitting.

To business, however, Harry turned to his parents' portrait. "Mum, dad, I brought you guys a present or three…" he gestured to the extra blank frames.

"So we don't have to watch you and your boyfriends shag each other all hours of the night?" James smirked. That earned him a swat from Lily.

"Dad!" Harry looked scandalized, as he pinned one of the blank portraits up beside the occupied frame.

"Thank you, sweetheart," spoke Lily, while Harry worked, casting several charms at the blank frame. "How did you learn how to do this?"

"A few years ago… remember, I've had a trunk like this before. Back then, you guys had five portraits. For now I got three, but I'll likely buy at least a couple more—there, that should do it. Try to move into the new frame."

Instantly and soundlessly, both Lily and James moved into the new frame.

"Excellent! Now can one of you move to the original frame?" questioned Harry. James nodded, and moved back into the original.

"That will be good for when Severus comes to visit," said Lily.

"My thoughts too. No offence dad, but—"

"None taken, son. Indeed, even now there's a lot of tension just being in proximity to one another."

"Well you didn't exactly help things."

"Nor did Severus, dear," Lily pointed out, "A lot of mistakes were made that will take time to heal."

"True. Okay. One down, two more to go."

"You've placed the other already," Lily assumed.

"Yeah. I'll just move the original out there to finish it. I mounted one of them above the fireplace in the common room."

Less than ten minutes later, all the portraits were configured and placed: one in the dining room, the one above the fireplace in the common room, one above the fireplace in the study, and the original, which remained in Harry's bedroom.

With that done, Harry returned to the study. Neville was still in the floo, likely speaking to his grandmother. It was likely a rather heated conversation, knowing the wily woman that was Augusta Longbottom. Yet, if this worked, he would gain another powerful ally.

Two others sat at the table now as well: Jiro and Zachariah.

"Guys… good to see you guys up here again," said Harry, taking a seat.

"And I actually have to get going," said Bill, holding up a piece of parchment, "Gringotts business."

"You'll be back for supper?"

"Should be," answered Bill, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Harry's forehead. He left the room.

"So… what have you guys been doing anyway?" Harry gestured at Jiro and Zachariah.

"We've been busy to say the least," said Zachariah, "Actually, we need a favour."

"That is?"

"A floo connection, if you don't mind."

"Can't you guys just come up here?"

"Sure, but well… we just don't want to be in your way… or the band's," answered Jiro.

"Yeah, more like, you CAN'T be in their way," Ron spoke up.

"Didn't ask for your opinion," Jiro shot back.

"GUYS! Fine, I'll see about making the addition later," said Harry, pinching the bridge of his nose. In a way, it was a GOOD thing Jiro wasn't around too much.

"And who exactly are you again?" questioned Draco, looking up from the stack of parchment. The death of his parents had left a mess of business and legal matters for the teen, although Snape was effectively his guardian at this point.

"This is Jiro and Zachariah," Harry introduced.

"Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, we know who you are," said Jiro, "Surprised Harry let you in here. What for, Harry?"

"Because it was the right thing to do. So much for knowing all there is about me."

"Hey, I didn't say I knew everything about you!" Jiro snorted, "Holy fuck that's lame! Now Draco on the other hand… wow. Real character. Jumping horses, mid-stride?"

"I should be the one to ask, why did Potter let you two in here?" Draco shot back.

"They're in the same situation you are," Harry answered, "Guys… just—"

"This place is becoming a circus!" Jiro snapped, "You've got a Muggle-become-wizard, a pureblood supremist, and…"

"Muggle-become-wizard?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "Well, let's see… Muggle clothing… I take you as a Mudblood, the both of you—" Both Draco and Jiro slammed their chairs back from the table, and leapt to their feet, wands drawn. "I dare you to say that again, asshole!" Jiro challenged. The angry energy flowing from both was almost palpable.

"Guys…" said Harry. of course, he knew better than to jump in the middle of something like this. Jiro had stepped in it this time, and he wasn't about to bail him out.

"Harry? what—" Matt began, stepping into the room. He still had his guitar strapped on, but had obviously heard the raised voices from across the hall.

That's all it took. A purple blast of magic shot from Jiro's wand, to impact the far corner. It was answered by a red bolt of magic from Draco's wand. The others seated at the table quickly retreated to the pit, while Jiro and Draco slugged it out in a dangerous magical duel.

"You're just gonna let that carry on?" questioned Matt.

"Jiro caused this little episode, so it's his problem," answered Harry.

"Foot-in-mouth disease again?"

"Right in one."

"And you're just gonna let that continue? Harry that's dangerous, someone could get hurt!" Hermione scolded… and all were forced to duck as a stray bolt of purple magic blasted overhead.

"I'll put a stop to it once it gets too dangerous."

"Remind me never to cross you, mate," said Matt, clapping Harry on the back. For Matt, Christmas had come early.

Neville, who had been on the floo with his grandmother, was both shocked and mortified at the chaos he found whirling around him, when he at last exited the floo.

"Bloody hell!" he gasped, producing his wand. Harry only shook his head. "Come on guys, we'll take this into my room."

"Come into the studio, we're taking a break anyway," Matt offered.

Neville was again taken by surprise with the arrangement of the studio. Equipment and instruments the boy had never seen before were set up about the room, and it was lighted not with gas lamps like the rest of the trunk, but what looked like glass bulbs.

"You look like how Ron's father did the first time he came in here," said Matt, gesturing to the stranger, then un-strapping his guitar and placing it in a free cradle.

"This is Neville. He grew up in the wizard world, so he's not seen too many Muggle things," Harry explained.

"Oh, right… guess I know what that feels like… coming into the magical world." Matt gestured to the holster strapped to his right forearm.

"Came by your magic late?" Neville guessed.

"Something like that," said Harry, conjuring up a few additional seats. Neville stared momentarily, caught off guard by the display.

"Wandless magic… conjuration? Wicked," he declared.

"Fucking weird, what I call it," said Owen. The rest of the band were seated on the couches off to one corner—Owen had been scribbling out notes on a large notepad resting on his lap.

"This is Matt," Harry introduced, "and his friends and band mates, Owen, Patrick, and Justin. Guys, this is Neville Longbottom, a friend and classmate."

"So… you guys play some sort of music, then?" inquired Neville.

"They make the Weird Sisters look tame, mate," Ron sniggered.

"The Weird Sisters?" questioned Patrick.

"Magical band. Their music's not bad. I'll have to get a wireless and show you sometime," Harry explained.

"A wireless?" questioned Matt.

"Yeah… magical radio. We get stations and things, just like in the Muggle world."

"Muggle stations?"

"I don't know… I doubt it, I mean, the wireless is a magical device… not really meant to be compatible."

"Just like our shit shouldn't work here, but you made it so it does," Owen pointed out.

"Well that's a bit different. See, that's something better asked of the twins, or Jiro might know… if he can ever stop being such a git," said Harry.

"You mean the wizard having a go at Malfoy?"

"That would be him… serves him right… I've warned him far too many times to think before he opens his bloody mouth."

"So is he out of here this time?" questioned Owen.

"No. Once the twins have all they need from him, then we'll be rid of him. I promise that much."

"Sounds like a trouble maker," Neville guessed.

"Yes!" came a chorus of voices, save for Harry. 'Bloody hell that was virtually unanimous,' he thought. Just then, Dobby appeared, announcing, "Lunch is being ready it is!!"

"Thanks, Dobby. Guys… let's take this into the dining room… and Dobby… let the combatants in the study know too."

"Dobby is doing so already… wizards making terrible mess of things…"

"And you guys aren't to clean it up, okay? I'll have Jiro do that, I think," said Harry. Dobby nodded enthusiastically and popped away.

Lunch was a spirited affair, as Harry continued to fill Neville in on what had been happening to him during the summer, as well as adding further details about his 'future'. The boy was nothing short of stunned, hearing of various exploits, and more particularly, of his own future.

"Mr. Longbottom. Glad to see Harry's invited you over." Neville wheeled to see Sirius standing in the doorway to the dining room. He instantly reached for his wand, recognizing the face he had seen so many times already on numerous wanted posters in Diagon Alley. Harry was quicker, holding up a hand. "Don't judge him, 'Nev. Remember what I said?"

"But…"

"Sirius is no more guilty of killing my mum and dad than… than Voldemort is any less guilty of it… if that makes any sense."

"Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper that night," said James, from their portrait.

"But… the evidence…"

"Is all bullocks," Sirius finished, claiming an empty seat.

"If Fudge was to ever admit an innocent man spent twelve years in prison… what would that look like?" Harry pointed out.

"Right," said Neville, understanding at once. Just then, Draco stepped into the room, looking none the worse for wear. "I will help straighten things up—"

"No you won't. Although you shouldn't have called him a Mudblood… needless to say, Jiro started the dragon shit, so he will be putting my study back to rights. Come eat."

"Dumb fuck's got no social filter whatsoever," Owen muttered between bites. Lunch that day consisted of fish and chips—Owen had specifically requested it, and the elves were only too happy to oblige.

"What happened?" questioned Sirius.

"Just Jiro, being a prat, as usual," answered Harry, "Don't worry, we have it sorted."

"Right… so back to the original point. What do you plan on doing to get your name cleared, Mr. Black?" questioned Neville.

"Still working on that."

"The only way he'll get his name cleared, is when a new Minister for Magic takes office," said Harry, "Fudge knows if he were to ever grant Sirius a new trial, it would be the last thing he does. If that gets drawn out into the open, who knows what other skeletons will come flying out of the closet? And coming from the future, I know a good number of them myself."

"You mean, such as the 'contributions' my father was making to his personal vaults?" Draco pointed out.

"Among other things. Never mind the number of spies Voldemort has in the ministry, some of them with direct ties to the Minister."

"So that's where you start," said Draco, "I take it you plan on making changes to the Ministry as well?"

"Yeah, eventually. Just not yet. Not until I've dealt with Voldemort."

"Gran is already filing a petition with the Wizengamot seeking financial compensation against the Lestranges," said Neville.

"And if things work as quickly as I expect, we'll see something in the Prophet two days from now," said Harry, "And that reminds me. I'll be visiting Gringotts—sooner rather than later. For this to work… there are certain individuals who have to be removed from the picture."

"Goblins?" Sirius guessed.

"Yeah. There were a few goblins involved guarding the Lestrange vault, or specifically the Horcrux in it. If they're still in play—"

"They'll likely move the Horcrux before you can retrieve it," Hermione concluded.

"Exactly."

"Do you want to know what happens to a goblin caught in acts that compromise the integrity of Gringotts?"

"More like, do we WANT to know?" spoke Ron, darkly.

"Well, the goblins are a warrior race, after all," Hermione pointed out.

"Hermione…"

"Just pointing out—"

"We get it," Owen huffed, "I would like to keep my appetite, if you don't mind!"

With lunch concluded, Harry was already making ready to leave.

"Do you mind if I come along?" questioned Matt.

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

"Curiosity."

"Morbid curiosity, more like it," Harry snickered. He produced his clone. "Go check in on Cedric, ask Mrs. Diggory if she needs anything—and remind Jiro he's got a mess to clean up."

"Right." The clone popped away.

"D'you think I'll ever be able to do that?"

"I don't know. We can try, but… no guarantees. I've loaned Hermione the notes right now, and really… you need to learn the basic stuff first."

"Didn't hurt to ask," said Matt, with a shrug.

"Let's go."

A minute later, they were beating a quick path through Diagon Alley to the large marble-faced building that was Gringotts. Harry nodded to the goblin guards out front, and led Matt into the main banking hall. Being later in the day, it was much more busy, and the pair ended up joining a lengthy queue. It was nearly ten minutes before they reached the wicket.

"I need to speak to Ragnok, regarding a potential breach of security," said Harry. The goblin behind the wicket narrowed his eyes at Harry, saying, "Wherever you might have obtained such faulty information, I can assure you—"

"I have proof through my memories. Summon Ragnok. Now. Or I will draw out every last knut from my vaults, and will never conduct business with this bank again. Are we clear?"

"I… I will summon Ragnok at once," the goblin sputtered, looking suddenly rattled. He vanished through a small door in the back wall.

"Harry. What are you doing here?" Harry turned to find Bill standing beside them.

"Something I need to deal with before the Longbottoms take some legal action."

"Against you?" Bill arched an eyebrow.

"No! course not! But… let's just say, I'm exterminating some rats."

"Here? In the bank?" Bill questioned.

"Something like that. I've asked to speak with Ragnok."

"Unlikely you'll get very far—"

"I also just threatened to empty my vaults, so yeah, they'll be paying very close attention to what I have to say," Harry answered. 'O', Bill mouthed.

The small disturbance had not gone unnoticed, and with Harry wearing his much more recognizable appearance, whispers started travelling through the hall. What had upset the boy? Never mind that, who was the dark-haired man beside him?

"Mr. Potter. If you'll follow me, then." The teller had reappeared in front of them. "We will do our best to straighten out this… little misunderstanding."

"Great."

A minute later, the enlarged party was being shown into a large conference room, where a single goblin waited at the head of the table.

"Weasley. Is there a reason you are present? Mr. Potter, is he the reason for this… piece of unpleasant business?" spoke the goblin.

"No. Mr. Weasley is a close friend, as is the second gentleman, and I ask both be present as witnesses. Might we have privacy?"

"Yes, of course. Lightord, you will wait outside."

"As you wish." The goblin left the room, closing the doors behind.

"Whatever is discussed here remains between us, Mr. Potter. Now what is the nature of your complaint?"

"Ragnok… there are at least three goblins working here, who are also answering to Lord Voldemort. If you can produce a pensieve, I will show you how I know."

"That is indeed a serious accusation," said Ragnok, "Nonetheless, one that must be dealt with, should it turn out to be accurate." A gesture from the goblin's hand, and a steel bowl with shimmering liquid appeared in front of Harry.

"Thank you. As you're likely already aware, I'm not fifteen."

"Yes, we are most certainly aware of your rather curious travel backward through time. Most curious as to how that happened."

"You and me alike," said Harry, as he drew out the appropriate memory. "I have all of my memories from my future. This is an event that happened the first time around. I should warn you, it's a memory of a memory, but I'll leave it to you to identify the culprits."

The memory was brief, showing Voldemort's rage as he discovered the loss of Hufflepuff's cup from the Lestrange vault. Three goblins lay dead at the foot of the monster, having been cut down by blasts of green magic. Ragnok stopped the memory each time, getting a good look at the faces.

"This incident is… most disturbing. I must also ask, what is it the Dark Lord is protecting?"

"A cup, stored in the Lestrange vault. It's been there for several decades."

"And why would he be in such a state over a simple treasure?"

"Because that's just it. It's not," answered Harry, "It contains some of the darkest magic a wizard can perform. Do you know what a Horcrux is?" Ragnok shook his head. "It contains a piece of Voldemort's soul. The only way to create one is to murder someone."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. We need to get rid of all of them, before I can ever defeat him for good."

"Which brings us back to the three goblins working for Voldemort," said Bill, steering the conversation back on track.

"Yes, indeed, most disturbing in its own right. Lightord!!" The door swung open, and the goblin stepped back into the conference room. "Yes sir?"

"Have guards collect Rongard, Gamlan, and Slipfoot! Have them brought here."

"As you wish." The goblin left.

"So… what will happen to them?" questioned Matt.

"They will be thoroughly questioned," said Ragnok, "We will be sure there are no other discrepancies or questions of confidentiality. They will be relieved of their positions, and… let us just conclude, further steps will be taken within goblin nation."

"What will happen to them will likely make death look pleasant," added Bill, darkly, "Betraying the trust of the bank, it's a serious offence."

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Weasley. Now, if our business is concluded… I do hope you will reconsider withdrawing all your assets from your vault."

"I'm happy to remain a customer. Some of those below didn't seem to take my claim seriously."

"Perhaps next time, you might consider sending an owl."

"I'll remember that, Ragnok," said Harry, as he collected the memory from the pensieve.

As they made their way back from the conference room, they passed six heavily armed goblin guards, escorting three unarmed goblins the other way. Two of the 'condemned' stared wide-eyed at Harry as he passed.

"Love to be a fly on the wall for THAT meeting," said Harry.

"It'll be most unpleasant, you can be sure," said Bill, "They'll be dead before the morning."

"I don't get something," said Matt, "Why would the bank be tore up about some of their employees answering to Voldemort?"

"Because they're not supposed to," answered Bill, "They answer to the goblin nation, and to the bank, no one else. To be actively participating in a wizard organization, that's a breech of service, and to a lesser extent, a breech of security. See, to answer to someone other than the bank, who's to say they aren't sharing internal secrets, divulging the comings and goings of bank clientele? This kind of thing… the goblins know not to do such things. Those who do… like I said, the consequences are far from pleasant."

Passing through the main banking hall, whispers again spread through the room, seeing the dark-haired stranger with Harry. Then—

"It's Sirius Black!" An older witch shrieked, and chaos instantly befell the room—it was as if Voldemort himself had stormed into the bank with a dozen Death Eaters. Harry literally dragged his friends out of the building.

"Holy shit!" Matt finally managed, as they got out to the street.

"You can say that again, bloody sheeple…"

"STOP! Stop right where you are!" a voice barked. The trio spun to find no less than six Aurors, all with wands trained on them.

"Hope you have a good reason," said Harry, evenly.

"Wait a minute," said one of them, "You're not Sirius Black… bleedin' Christ…"

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Harry drawled, "'Spose the sheep called you guys."

"Sheep?" questioned the second Auror.

"Yeah, well… people who are just following the crowd, you know?"

"Right, yes."

"Just for the record, who are you?"

"Matt Tyson," said Matt, "I appeared at Harry's hearing a few days ago."

"He did, I was present," said the first Auror, "Sorry about the mistake."

"People need to stop being so paranoid and think before reacting," said Harry, "I would have thought Voldemort himself had showed up." That caused two of the Aurors to shift uncomfortably where they were standing.

"Oh come off it, you guys are supposed to protect us, not run off in fear just because of a name!" Harry snorted.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," spoke the first Auror, gruffly, and the group of them headed into the bank.

"Holy fuck, people are dumb," said Matt, shaking his head, "I don't look anything like Sirius."

"I know… I guess, with people seeing you with me… they jumped to conclusions."

"Unfortunately common in our world, Matt," said Bill.

"I assume you finished… well, whatever you were called back for?"

"Yeah, relatively quick one this time. An artefact recovered from an estate in Germany. There were a number of protective charms on it that were rather nasty, things I won't get into. My services were required. Let's stop in the Leaky Cauldron for a pick-me-up."

"Sounds all right to me," said Harry, with a shrug.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry's clone tracked down Jiro. He had retreated to his own flat, along with his partner. Both the twins were also present, continuing to work with the vast amount of information on Jiro's computers.

"So… you destroyed my study, and you're content to leave the mess for someone else to clean up?"

"Um… well… considering the blonde snake STARTED the fight in the first place—"

"Excuse me? NO, I think you have it backwards, genius. YOU started the dragon shit, so I expect YOU to clean it up. Is that clear? You did damage to MY home, so you will bloody well FIX IT!"

"What sort of damage?" questioned Fred.

"He duelled with Draco. The study's a disaster."

"And why is Malfoy not being asked to help?"

"Because Jiro started it!" Harry snapped, turning to face Jiro, "Look, I said it before. You're really pressing your luck. I'm surprised you're still in one piece after that. One of these days you'll pick a fight with someone and it'll be your last."

Harry spent the next hour visiting with Cedric and his mother. The boy was still as cold as ice, as the petrifying charm still held—the only thing keeping him alive at this point. If it weren't for Bill—and now, Matt—there would be no way he would be able to keep himself together. Even with everything going on around him, Cedric was still not far from his mind. It was the one thing that prevented him from really pushing things with Matt, or Bill for that matter—and he had a previous relationship with the eldest Weasley, so pushing things would be quite easy, really.

Yet, with his first boyfriend in such a state, it just didn't seem right… it was almost like he would betray his trust. After all, Harry knew exactly what it felt like to be on the other end of such a situation.

* * *

"Didn't you want to deal with the Gaunt shack today as well?" questioned Bill, as they finished their butter beers.

"True… although… Matt, I don't think you should be with us," said Harry.

"Why not? I'm not a fucking baby."

"Where we're going… There could be Death Eaters there… never mind the fact Voldemort himself might be there."

"I'm coming with you," said Matt, rather forcefully. Harry arched an eyebrow. 'Guy's got balls, I'll admit that much,' he thought. "All right. Fine. Let's go." Harry tossed a handful of galleons on the table, and the trio wasted no time leaving the pub. Back in the alley, they disapparated with a noisy POP.

They landed on a narrow, overgrown path, in what appeared to be a thicket of trees.

"Now that's not a growing concern," Matt muttered, gesturing to the ramshackle building virtually hidden in the clump of trees.

"Where are we, Harry?" questioned Bill.

"The former home of Marvolo Gaunt," answered Harry, as the trio stepped forward, "Stay close to me. If anything happens… Bill, get Matt out of here like yesterday. Clear?"

"Of course… maybe you should have sent your clone to do this."

"A little late, we're already here. Just stay close."

Inside, the shack was every bit as dilapidated as the exterior, with numerous holes in the roof—after all, it had been well over a half-century since it had been inhabited. There was evidence wild animals had called the shack home on numerous occasions, and the earth itself had begun to reclaim the building—several saplings were already pushing up toward the holes in the roof.

"Now if I remember…" said Harry, gesturing a hand at a broken end table. The drawer seemed to fight against his attempt, but at last slid open, revealing various clutter, including several very mouldy copies of the Daily Prophet. The magic had degraded so much, the pictures no longer moved. Yet, it wasn't those old copies of the newspaper Harry was interested in. A small ring also occupied the drawer. He levitated it out of the drawer. "Bill…"

"I can feel a few rather nasty enchantments on it," said Bill, gesturing at it with his wand, "You'll need to put it in something before you handle it." Harry only nodded, letting the ring float back into the drawer. He then conjured up a small wooden box. "This should do." He then levitated the ring into it.

"Let me put a few sealing charms on it, just to be safe," Bill suggested.

"Yeah, go ahead." Bill quickly cast several spells at the box.

"Done?" Bill nodded, so Harry scooped up the box, and stuffed it into his pants. "Let's go. Grab an arm, then." They vanished with a loud POP.

As soon as they arrived in the trunk, Harry stowed the Horcrux with the rest of them. He wouldn't actually attempt to destroy any of them until he had Hufflepuff's cup. He located his clone and they merged. He still hadn't found out the results of Neville's chat with his grandmother, after all!


	21. Temporarily Homeless

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: jgood27, scotsremusfan, zutarakid50, Thenchick, and kehlencrow. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!  
_

_WARNING: Coarse language, slash(!). You have been warned. This chapter may require me to change the rating to 'M', so beware (no graphic sex, but close).  
_

_Posted __January 10, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XX-  
TEMPORARAILY HOMELESS**

**Or, Harry loses yet another place of residence**

**

* * *

**The morning paper two days later was indeed an interesting read. The front page featured a large photograph of the Longbottoms, with an inset of the younger family, obviously taken during happier times. The larger photo featured Neville and his grandmother as they left the ministry of magic, answering questions from the media.

_LONGBOTTOM SEEKS DAMAGES JUDGEMENT AGAINST LESTRANGES, STEMMING FROM ATTACK 14 YEARS AGO, by Rita Skeeter_

_Augusta Longbottom has filed documents with the Wizengamot seeking financial compensation against the Lestrange family, stemming from their involvement in the torture of her son and his wife. When asked as to why she has waited this long, Madam Longbottom only responded "An acquaintance of the family suggested we take action, and I am following their advice. It is the next best thing I can hope for, given they are already locked away in Azkaban."_

_Indeed, both Belletrix and her husband, along with his brother, are all permanent residents of the wizard prison, as a result of a long list of crimes perpetrated by all three individuals._

_However, this reporter does have to wonder, what do the Longbottoms hope to gain from this action? Surely, there can't be a better punishment than what has already been handed the culprits. Is this an attempt to grab attention, like another boy we know of? This reporter will keep abreast of this, and will keep you the reader informed._

Harry frowned, laying the paper on the table in front of him. Of course, Skeeter would have to take another swipe at him. Yet, she still had her uses, as this article proved. Perhaps this action would give others the courage to step forward and launch legal action of their own.

"Rather Slytherin of you, Potter," said Draco, plopping into a seat across the table. He too, had a copy of the paper.

"If it stirs people up, so be it. It's time the sheeple pull their heads out of their arses and stand up for themselves."

"Sheeple?"

"People acting like sheep, just following rather than leading. That's one of the problems," said Harry, taking a sip of his juice. "People know there are problems in the ministry, yet they just keep quiet about it, hoping someone else will say something. Just like the threat from Voldemort. Everyone expects me to do something about it, when it's EVERYONE'S responsibility. If it takes something subtle, a little bit of manipulation, then so be it, but people need to stand up for themselves. It's the same problem in the Muggle world."

"You do understand what you're against, Potter," said Draco, "Centuries of niceties and policies won't change overnight."

"Exactly. But we have to start somewhere. Otherwise, I might as well pack up and leave the country. Go park myself in a hidden corner of the world and let Voldemort take over. Because when I deal with him… without widespread changes here… another dark wizard will just take his place."

"And you would be right, Harry," said Sirius, striding over to the table, and taking a seat. "Each of his Death Eaters could easily take his place."

"My father included, if he were still alive," said Draco, "Any member of the inner circle for that matter."

"You're having second thoughts about your father, then?" questioned Sirius.

"I've been doing some thinking, yes. I don't ever want… to be put in a position such as I was… well… as in what I saw in Potter's memories. My beliefs aside, I will never follow Voldemort, that is not my place."

"Will you help us sway others in your house? I know not everyone is a dark lord in waiting," said Harry.

"I make no promises. My place in Slytherin will be precarious as it is."

"If it becomes a problem, let Snape know, and we'll work something out."

"Why involve Snape?" questioned Sirius.

"If the other Slytherins saw me actually having a civil conversation with Potter…"

"True, wise idea, then," said Sirius, catching on at once.

"And you will have to keep up appearances," said Harry, "As irritating as that notion is, it's best not to let anyone on to any changes." Draco nodded at that. After all, it wouldn't be too difficult. He still had a long way to go before they would ever be even considered acquaintances, let alone friends.

"Draco, I need you to promise me something, though," said Harry.

"And that would be?"

"Don't call Hermione a Mudblood. Or any other of my friends for that matter. That's exactly the kind of thing we're trying to stop altogether. I'm sure you can be insulting in other ways."

"I suppose. You have my word, then."

"Great. She is a smart witch, you have to admit that much," Harry grinned, to which Draco sneered, saying, "Don't push your luck, Potter." He thought for a moment, then asked, "What did Jiro mean by 'Muggle-become-wizard'?"

"Before I answer that… you can't be calling Matt nasty names either."

"Why? He something other than a Mu-muggle-born?"

"To some, yeah. Sirius' mother calls him a magic-stealer. Laughable, considering it's because of me he's become a wizard."

"Bullocks! You can't give someone magic!" Draco snorted.

"But that's just it, I have. Not entirely intentional, but I don't regret it."

"How? How is that possible?! Father said you have to be born with magic!"

"With a few exceptions, yeah. I mean, I don't know if Hermione could do it… Dumbledore probably, or Voldemort… it takes a powerful witch or wizard."

"What possessed you to do such a thing, Potter?"

"To save Matt's life. That was all that mattered at the time. It was either give him some of my blood, or he would've died on the common room floor."

"Draco, think of it this way," Sirius threw in, "How many times has it been where a Wizarding family has not been able to produce an heir due to one circumstance or another?"

"But… it's… what you're describing… it's worse than a Muggle-born!" Draco protested.

"To some yeah. Can't wait to see Voldemort's reaction, when I tell him what I've done… I mean, it'll be just before I kill him… but his reaction will be one to remember, I'm sure."

"It's not funny, Potter!"

"No, it's not. But it's one way to ensure our survival."

"And Harry… you realize Matthew is effectively a blood relation at this point?" Sirius pointed out.

"I know. Closer than a marriage. He would inherit everything I have should I die and leave no will—not that that should happen anytime soon."

"I think I'm going to be ill," said Draco, looking rather green. Clearly, this revelation was not sitting well.

"Just remember what I said. You don't have to like it, but… if you ever hurt Matt or his friends… your Slytherin housemates will be the last of your concerns. Am I clear?" said Harry, dangerously. Draco only glared.

On the afternoon of August 17, a large barn owl swooped into the study, bringing with it a medium-sized package. Harry was once again studying the notes he had copied from Dumbledore's journal—he had finally returned it not long after Harry let the headmaster in on his secret. The owl landed on the table in front of him, and looked at the boy-become-man expectantly.

"For me, I gather?" Harry reached out and accepted the package. It had the Gringotts seal on the top, causing him to arch an eyebrow.

"Who's it from, dear?" questioned Lily from her portrait.

"Gringotts, mum."

"Bills, I bet," said Matt, looking up from the first year charms text he had been studying.

"Nope." Harry quickly opened the package, and was floored by what was inside: Hufflepuff's cup.

"Well? What is it?" Lily prodded.

"Hufflepuff's cup," Harry breathed.

"The Horcrux from the Lestrange vault," Matt remembered, then, "Looks like it was rather singed by something."

"Yeah, quite likely." Harry gestured at it with a finger. "It's not a Horcrux anymore, I know that much."

"The goblins probably didn't appreciate such dark magic being held in their vaults, dear," said Lily.

"Hmmm," Harry nodded, "All in all, I really don't care. It's one less of these things I have to worry about." Just then, the floo fired, and Neville stepped out of it. "Oh, Harry… you got it then?"

"Yeah. How— right."

"Gringotts just sent us an owl letting us know about it. Gran says she'll still proceed with the action, it would look rather suspicious if we were to discontinue it."

"Yeah, quite right. Best not to clean out the vault completely. I would rather Voldemort not catch on to the fact I've collected all but one of his Horcruxes. He does, we'll never get rid of him."

"Thought about how you'll capture Nagini?"

"No, but it is something I need to work out. Once she's gone, and we get rid of the other Horcruxes I've collected, we can destroy Voldemort once and for all."

"Harry…" Owen was standing in the door. "You smell smoke?"

"No… YES, actually I do…" Harry realized, "Everyone stay here."

Harry quickly made his way out to the entry hall, and opened the lid. The smell of smoke was much more prevalent at this point, forcing him to cast a bubble-charm on his face. The place shouldn't be on fire, though! What the hell? He picked up the trunk, and left the room.

The corridor was much thicker with smoke, and the heat was noticeable. The building was already alight somewhere… he wouldn't make it down the stairs. With a prayer to everything holy his godfather was safe, he disapparated.

He reappeared at the gates to Hogwarts. Sure, there were still two weeks before the actual start of term, but at this point, there was really nowhere else to go. Luck was with him, as the gates themselves were open—unlike in his future, when the grounds were heavily warded. He stepped through, and placed a hand on the fortification. Would the castle herself recognize him again?

His fears were for naught, as he felt a warm tingle travel up his hand. The wards most definitely knew him from his future—rather odd, the way magic worked sometimes. After all, for a brief time, he had held complete control over the castle's wards. The place recognized that, and answered his simple request—the massive outer gates began to swing closed. Whether the ministry wanted to acknowledge it or not, the dark was gaining strength. The school would not be vulnerable as it was the first time around… not if Harry had anything to say about it.

The walk up to the castle itself was always a lengthy one, and now was no different. Someone to talk to would be nice, but yet, he was breaking the rules just being on school grounds right now. Letting anyone out of the trunk was just not a good idea at this point. So, he made the journey alone.

He was somewhat relieved to find the headmaster waiting at the front doors to the castle. He had counted his chances better of running into Filch—one of the last individuals he wanted to deal with at this point.

"Ah, Harry. I must say I'm relieved to find you here," spoke the headmaster.

"You and me alike, professor. What of Grimmauld Place?"

"Destroyed, along with the entire square around it. A most unpleasant event, nearly twenty Muggles unaccounted for," said Dumbledore, "Perhaps we should take this up to my office." Harry only nodded, and the two of them stepped into the entrance hall.

Sometime later, they were seated in the headmaster's office. Fawkes wasted no time coming to light on the back of Harry's chair, much to the amusement of both.

"Hello, Fawkes," said Harry. the bird let out a happy trill in answer.

"You were able to collect your trunk, I understand?"

"Yeah, definitely. From there… I didn't know where else to go. Coming here was all I could think of for now. I'm not afraid of Voldemort, but I'm not quite ready to face him again."

"Although I daresay, by the word I've gotten from Gringotts, Tom is missing one of his Horcruxes as of just an hour ago."

"An owl delivered its remains to me not long before Owen warned me about the smoke. Professor, may I set my trunk down for the moment? I think they should know everything's okay… where's Sirius?"

"He should be in your trunk, Harry. Do go ahead and set it down, if you like."

"Great." He pulled the miniaturized trunk from his pocket, and resized it. He quickly wrenched open the lid, and climbed in.

He found the common room buzzing with a number of individuals, as was the dining room.

"Harry! Thank Merlin you're okay!" Hermione breathed, smothering her friend in a tight hug.

"Air… Hermione… can't…"

"Sorry," the witch answered, releasing him from her grasp, "We were so worried!"

"Sirius smelled the smoke first, started yelling for us to floo to the trunk," said Ron, "We got here and couldn't find you."

"Owen warned me of the smoke. The trunk's at Hogwarts now."

"So everything's all right then?" questioned James.

"Where's Sirius?"

"In the kitchen with Molly."

"Let him know I'm all right. Need to step into the study for a second. Neville's here, by the way… maybe you guys might keep him company, I need to negotiate with Dumbledore."

"Negotiate with him… what for?" questioned Ginny.

"With Grimmauld Place gone… that was the last safe place for me here in Britain, other than Hogwarts. Unless I want to risk Voldemort or his Death Eaters finding us in the middle of the night."

Harry could see the relief on Matt's face when he stepped back into the study. Neville had taken a seat at the conference table, and it was clear he had been talking to the two members of "Thrice Defied", trying to keep their mind off the idea Harry might have been in danger.

"So… is everything okay?" questioned Matt, uneasily.

"Yeah, everything's fine now. Just wanted to let you guys know I was all right, I still have to speak with Dumbledore. I moved the trunk to Hogwarts for now."

"I'm coming with you," Matt decided. The tone of his voice left no room for arguments, and Harry actually arched an eyebrow.

"Right, let's go then. We'll go out the lid, save a floo call."

"All right by me, I don't exactly like that way of travel anyway."

Climbing the ladder back out of the trunk, they found the headmaster kneeling in front of the fireplace, his head in the green flames.

"Have I told you how fucked up that looks?" said Matt, as Harry conjured up an extra seat.

"Not lately. But remember, it's the way things work. I'm sure many pure-blooded wizards would look at you funny if they saw you talking on your mobile."

"True." Matt answered, gazing about the room. No mistake, they were in a very magical building. The vast number of magical portraits were watching the pair with interest, save for the few who appeared to be napping—or so it seemed. A number of instruments sat on a small round table, each of them spinning, whirring, or letting off little puffs of smoke. Fawkes had returned to his perch, yet he too continued to look at the pair. Matt could have sworn the bird was smirking at them!

"So we're gonna be staying here now?"

"It depends on what Dumbledore says. The rules say we can't. But the rules and me sometimes don't get along," answered Harry, to which Matt smirked, "I kind of noticed that."

"Might be a blood thing… but more likely because I've got a homicidal dark wizard and his cronies trying to kill me," said Harry, with a shrug.

"Owen wants to get started again… well… performing, but I told him it's not a good idea."

"You're right, it's not. Voldemort found you with us… with Cedric and I. So if he can catch you again, he'll use you to get to me. Going out and performing, that'll just invite trouble. I promised you guys I'll help you re-establish yourselves, and I mean that. But now's not the time… not when you could be used as bargaining chips or pawns." Harry blew out a breath, then continued, "Matt… you won't ever take Cedric's place… but you mean as much to me as he did… as much as Bill does now… if that makes any sense at all."

"Yeah, it does. And stop talking like Cedric's gone, Harry. Have ye no faith?" Matt questioned, goofily. Harry only rolled his eyes, but was momentarily shocked when Matt grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him close, and locked their lips together.

A throat clearing made them separate, quickly remembering there was at least one third party present. A few more guffaws and more throat-clearing from the paintings, while one actually spoke, "Really!" clearly unimpressed with their impromptu snogging session.

"Harry, I must say, although I am pleased you are finding a bit of happiness these days with your partners, I would prefer it if you did not conduct such affairs in my office," spoke Dumbledore, although his eyes danced with amusement.

"Indeed, Potter, perhaps you two need to find a broom closet somewhere," spoke the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

"No, we'll just go borrow the Room of Requirement later," Harry smirked, getting more scandalous looks from the portraits. "What, one of you suggested it! I mean, at least I'm not going on about shagging him!" That got a scandalous look from Matt, as well as a good number of portraits.

"Well… as much as we might like to continue this line of discussion, I believe there are more important things that need to be discussed."

"You and I alike, professor," said Harry, "One thing's for sure, I'm glad Owen was paying attention… by the time I got outside the trunk, the fire was already in the house. I guess everyone else was floo'ing into the trunk as I was leaving it."

"As Sirius has already explained to me. Your godfather was rather concerned. Only miss Granger could reassure him you were still alive," said Dumbledore. Harry nodded, saying, "I just grabbed the trunk and apparated to the front gates of the school, as really at this point… there's nowhere else to go. Unless I leave the country altogether… and that won't exactly send a great message to the wizard world, now, will it?"

"No, Harry, I daresay it wouldn't. Which is why I was in middle of a fire-call when you returned. I was speaking to a member of the board of governors, explaining your present situation."

"And?"

"Given the special circumstances surrounding who you are and who you're fighting, you will be permitted to remain at the school in the remaining two weeks before term begins. However, it is still best you do not travel far from your trunk, unless it is necessary."

"I won't be traveling on the train then, either, as it won't exactly make much sense."

"I'm leaving that decision up to you, Harry."

"And usually, when I'm out and about, I have at least one other person with me. I can also send out my copy if necessary."

"Yes, I do wonder why you don't produce him more often," said Dumbledore.

"It's not exactly a comfortable thing when he vanishes, sir, and it's worse the longer he's around."

"That's why you should use him more often," said Matt, "I mean, it's like a muscle, isn't it? The more you use it, the better it gets?"

"A very good analogy, Mr. Tyson," said Dumbledore, with a nod.

"I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier to bear."

"I would also be interested to see if you might be able to produce more than one."

"I've thought about that, but… it's back to the same problem, dealing with the massive rush of memories when they vanish."

"So you have tried producing more than one?"

"No."

"Mr. Potter is capable of the Doppelganger charm?" spoke one of the portraits, "That's an astounding piece of magic indeed!"

"Been able to since well… since the attack at my relatives'."

"Though he's been trying to do it since we met in the middle of July," Matt added. Once again he swore the phoenix was smirking at them again.

"Right. Where will I be staying, then?" questioned Harry, bringing the conversation back on track.

"Given you have been allowed to stay at the school, you may settle in the fifth year dormitory in Gryffindor tower, since that is where you will be staying come the beginning of term."

"Is there a password?"

"It remains unchanged until the start-of-term feast," answered Dumbledore, "It is therefore best you remain with the rest of your house returning to the dormitory afterward."

"I already know the password for the upcoming year, sir," Harry reminded.

"Ah, yes, quite right." Dumbledore thought of something. "Something I was in a bit of a quandary about earlier… Hogwarts informed me someone has closed the outer gates. Might you know something about that?"

"Yes sir. I asked her to close them," Harry answered, "The school still recognizes a bit of my authority when it comes to the wards and so on."

"But why would nary a boy have control of such things?!" the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black questioned, incensed. The school's wards were not meant to be manipulated by its students!

"There are things none of you know about me," answered Harry, with a shrug, "And now's not the time to tell it."

"You've been spending too much time around Albus," the portrait of Black sneered.

"Tell me, headmaster Black, do you know what I did to your descendant's portrait at Grimmauld Place?"

"I have no clue what you might be talking about."

"Let's just say, she found it rather hard to communicate over the past month or so. I can certainly do it again."

"Now Harry, I can't just allow you to—" Dumbledore began, but Harry held up a hand. "I know. Just making a point. You know, I could probably bring a blank portrait in, so mum and dad could visit. I'm sure headmaster Black might like my mum's company, being a Muggle-born and all." The former headmaster glared at Harry, then made to leave the frame. "What is this? Why can I not leave?"

"Grimmauld Place was destroyed by fire this afternoon, as Dumbledore has already said. That's what prompted my unscheduled visit," answered Harry. Phineas huffed, then turned his back to the room.

"Cheery fellow," Matt deadpanned.

"The Blacks were a troublesome family, save for Sirius and Regulus," said Harry, to which Phineas snarked, "I heard that!"

"Back to my original question, how is it you are able to manipulate the wards?" questioned the Headmaster.

"For a brief time, before the school was actually destroyed, I held control of the wards. It recognized me as the headmaster, although I wasn't officially made so. That, considering I was practically running the place, along with the few of us left truly fighting against Voldemort and his forces. Thing was, by that time, we were truly a minority, maybe a hundred or so, against his thousands. People were so afraid, they preferred his tyranny versus our offering of a chance for freedom. In their eyes, siding with us meant certain death."

"You describe truly dark times, Harry. You describe a time I experienced in the fight against Grindelwald, although not quite of that extreme. But yes, there was a time when people were truly more afraid of us than they were of Grindelwald's army. I dearly hope we will not reach those times again."

"You and me alike, sir."

"That still doesn't answer the question as to how you are still able to manipulate the wards in any way shape or form," spoke the portrait of Armando Dippet, the largest portrait in the room.

"If Harry has retained control over the school's wards at one point, the school will most certainly recognize that. I would hope, however, that you would leave that sort of thing to me," said Dumbledore.

"And I will. Sir, you're older and wiser than I am. After all, I'm still just a student."

"We are all students, Mr. Potter," Spoke Dippet, "We never cease to learn new things."

"Very true," Harry conceded.

"Maybe… we should go set up your trunk… well… wherever your dormitory is," Matt suggested. Harry only nodded. The mention of such a dark period dredged up a slew of ugly memories.

"Yes, quite right, Harry. I do have business to attend to, but we will likely wish to hold a meeting of the Order this evening."

"Yeah, quite right, all considering. I'll pass word," said Harry, standing. He banished his conjured chair, and Matt's, once it was no longer occupied. He closed the lid of the trunk, miniaturized it, and slipped it into the pocket of his pants. "Now. If I've still got some control of the wards… I wonder if I can do this…" He grabbed Matt by the arm, gave a slight twist, and they vanished with a loud POP.

"Most disturbing he's able to do that, Albus," spoke Phineas Black, "He could usurp your authority with the right tactics."

"No," Dumbledore disagreed, "Harry is not that kind of person. He is everything we need right now, if our world is to truly survive."

* * *

Harry and Matt appeared at the top of a large stair case, facing a large portrait of a rather plump lady. She started, finding two people suddenly standing in front of her. "What's the meaning of this?!" she demanded, then, "Mr. Potter! What are you doing here so soon?"

"I've been given permission to stay for the last two weeks of holidays… I've got nowhere else to go right now."

"And how did you just manage to apparate within the school wards?"

"A long story, my lady. The password's still Fortuna Major, I believe."

"Very well… you may enter," spoke the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open revealing a hole.

"Thanks," Harry spoke, and led Matt inside.

The common room was every bit as comfortable as when he had left a month and a half before. The lights were dimmed somewhat, but a fire still crackled in the grate, and the couches in front of it seemed to call out to him. He was home again.

"Now I see where you got the colour scheme for your trunk," said Matt, looking around.

"C'mon, I'll show you the dormitory."

"How many students all together?"

"You mean, just in my house, or the whole school?"

"Both."

"Well, I think we've got about two hundred fifty, thereabouts, but for the rest, I couldn't tell you. Hufflepuff's the biggest house, but the others… we really don't mingle outside our own houses."

"Sounds a bit dumb," said Matt, "I mean… Cedric's from Hufflepuff, isn't he? And Luna…"

"Ravenclaw."

"The smart house."

"Something like that."

"Why didn't Hermione end up there?"

"You haven't seen her in action yet. But trust me, you'll understand when you do. The hat has its reasons."

"Where do you think I'd end up?"

"Gryffindor, hands down, mate," Harry smirked, as he led him up the staircase to the fifth year boys' dormitories. Passing several doors, they at last came to a door with five names on it: Ronald Weasley, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and, Harry Potter. There was a sixth brass plate, but it was blank. Harry arched an eyebrow, but said, "Just a warning… don't try getting into the girls' rooms. The stairs have a rather nasty trap put on them to prevent that." He pushed the door open, and they stepped into the room. "That's weird, there should only be five beds."

"Maybe you guys are getting a transfer or something," said Matt, with a shrug.

"It's not happened since I've been a student here, not now, not in the future. Not that I really care… I'll likely be spending my nights in the trunk anyway… I don't think the other guys would appreciate our activities waking them up in the middle of the night."

"Right." Harry again shrugged, pulling the miniaturized trunk out of his pocket and once again restoring it to original size. He chose one of the four-poster beds, and placed the trunk at its foot. "Actually, if I had my way, I would never leave this place. The only place I've ever truly felt at home."

"I can see why."

"No you can't," answered Harry, darkly, "Even with some of the dragon shit I've had to put up with here, it still pales in comparison with the horrors I've witnessed and suffered. Never mind the way my relatives treated me." He again blew out a breath, and said, "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you… this has been a bit stressful. Let's get back into the trunk."

"Apparate?"

"Exactly," said Harry. Matt only reached out and grabbed onto his arm, and they again vanished with a noisy POP.

They found the trunk's common room empty, but voices were buzzing from the study, so that's where they headed, and indeed, most were gathered around the enlarged conference table. The room fell silent as Harry and Matt entered. Harry found himself once again smothered in a tight hug, and the mass of freckles and the pony tail told him all he needed to know. "Harry! Thank Gods you're all right!"

"I'm fine, Bill… it's all right," answered Harry, "Just settling things with Dumbledore."

"So where are we now, mate?" questioned Ron.

"Hogwarts. Dumbledore convinced the board of governors to bend the rules for me due to my circumstances," answered Harry, as he and Bill broke their embrace. Two seats were vacated to make room, and while Bill took his, Harry sat to his right, while Matt took the one next to it.

"Why won't they make that kind of exception for me?" Draco demanded, "Am I not in exactly the same position?"

"I've been asked to remain inside the trunk unless it's absolutely necessary. So I don't exactly have the run of the castle, guys. As it is, I know Dumbledore's putting a lot of trust in me to keep my word."

"Still…"

"There is no room for argument on this, Draco," spoke Sirius, "You would be at risk outside the trunk, just as Harry would be."

"But…"

"Your godfather does have more important things to do than to be constantly looking after your whereabouts," said Sirius, "You do also know, not all the professors remain at the school over the holidays, correct?"

"Again, a very small exception has been made, part of the factors being my age. Let's just drop it, okay? If anything it's irritating exceptions are being made just for who I am! Part of me is glad it was done, but another side of me is definitely not okay with it, and never will be." He thought for a moment. "How bad was the fire?"

"It's destroyed nearly fifteen Muggle residences so far," said Jiro, from his end of the table, "I've been keeping an eye on the Muggle news." He gestured at his notebook computer, plugged into one of the smaller power cubes. "The death toll so far is at two, but the fire department's still battling the fire, so it's likely to go up."

"We don't think it was Voldemort," said Sirius, "We've only just got the Order up and running again, and not many were aware of the secret."

"Yeah, I agree," said Harry, "A stroke of bad luck."

"I too. Nothing important was lost, and no one was killed," Sirius noted. Suddenly, Harry's clone appeared. "I'll be working to add a few more rooms, then, seeing we'll be needing additional beds tonight," he said.

"I will come along and lend my wand, then," Sirius offered.

"I as well," said Bill. Neville, meanwhile, was staring wide-eyed between the two identical 'Harrys'.

"An explanation is needed, I guess," said Harry, while his clone left the room with Bill. A number of heads nodded.

"It's a doppelganger charm," Harry explained, "It allows me to exist in two places at once. Very advanced magic, not too many witches or wizards can do it."

"No, not likely," Neville agreed, although he still looked shocked at what he had just seen. Sure, he knew Harry was a powerful wizard, but that… was just unbelievable!

"Now, I ask that no one spread that kind of thing around. Just like my older appearance, it won't do for my enemies to know certain things."

"How long have you been able to do such a thing, Mr. Potter?" questioned Mr. Lovegood.

"Since my birthday, when Death Eaters attacked the Burrow."

"You have no idea the state you left us in, when we saw you struck by the killing curse!" said Tonks, "Gods!"

"Yes and it was a rather painful re-assimilation of memories, too," said Harry, "Felt like being struck in the chest with a bludger amplified by ten."

"So if your doppelganger 'dies', you get flooded with memories?" inquired Tonks.

"Yes. Just like he was dismissed or banished, the charm cancelled."

"So every time he's dispelled, you get all the memories of his activities," Neville guessed. Harry nodded. "Exactly. And it's not exactly comfortable."

"But right useful!" Ron pointed out, "Wish I could do that, mate."

"Like I said, very advanced magic, not just anyone could do it. I think Dumbledore could probably pull it off… or Voldemort… and maybe Flitwick… but an average witch or wizard… definitely not. You guys are all welcome to give it a go once Hermione is done with the notes… but I make no promises."

By the end of the evening, the full extent of the damage was known. A two-block radius had been razed by the fire, resulting in ten deaths. Nearly a hundred families had been affected by the calamity, and officials had already started their investigation to determine the cause.

Order members had been sent back to the scene to retrieve any items that were salvageable from the house—Sirius had already emptied his library as it was, and most materials now adorned the shelves in Harry's study. Most importantly, however, the Order would be looking for things that would stand out to Muggle authorities, things that would normally have been completely destroyed by the fire. After all, the statute of secrecy most certainly had to be upheld.

"Why isn't Sirius upset about losing his house?" questioned Matt, as they at last turned in for the night. Harry, as usual, was pinned in between Matt and Bill.

"Sirius didn't have a happy childhood," Harry explained, "So Grimmauld Place didn't mean a whole lot to him. If anything, I think he's glad it's gone. The place was just as dark as it was the first time around—not that Kreacher really helped matters much."

"His behaviour is like night and day, Harry," said Bill, "I've seen him a few years ago, and he was a most unpleasant to deal with."

"I just showed him a bit of kindness, much like Regulus did. Never mind the fake locket I gave him. He went into a right state the first time I did it, too." Harry thought for a moment. "Either way, I think Sirius is more comfortable in here with us… he spends just about every waking moment here. Like I explained, the first time around, I think he was going mental being trapped in his mother's house."

"Anyone would… but I don't need to tell you how dangerous it would be for him to be out in public," Bill reminded.

"How true. Yet, that won't be the case for long… once I deal with Nagini, we can get rid of Tom, then turn my attention to the Ministry itself. Time for a little revolution, I think. With a new government, Sirius will have his name cleared, I'm sure of it."

"And if not?" questioned Bill.

"If not… I'll wash my hands of Wizarding Britain, and take everyone who means anything at all to me elsewhere. Sirius' wrongful imprisonment will be a sort of test for the new Minister. If he or she acts as brainless as Fudge, then Wizarding Britain is a lost cause… and I can tell you, I've been to a few other Wizarding communities in the world, most of which are far more progressive then Britain is."

"Harry… you're not telling me anything I don't already know," said Bill.

"I guess that's why Voldemort's fucking things up here, then," said Matt.

"Exactly. Outside of Britain and Europe as a whole, he'd never get started," said Harry, "With the exception of the United States… rather disorganized bunch when it comes to magic."

"How do you mean?"

"They don't have a central Wizarding government like we do. They've got a bunch of regional authorities that enforce the statute, and so on. So they do get issues with dark witches and wizards now and then—just not on the scale of Voldemort, and I'm actually surprised at that."

"Ah, but Harry, realize the influence from the north," Bill reminded.

"Yes, indeed. Now the Canadian Wizarding community has it right… a strong central government, and progressive thinking… they haven't had a dark witch or wizard since 1847. More so, they act quite decisively when someone goes dark—doing things Voldemort did in the beginning—that would definitely draw the attention of the government."

"You know quite a bit about them," Bill noted.

"I spent nearly a half-year there, most of it in Vancouver. I got to know a few people out there… it was nice to be out in public and not have people either grovelling over me, or trying to curse me."

"So you're famous there too, then?" inquired Matt.

"Well… they definitely know who I am… but they didn't get all in a twist about it—how did someone put it—go all 'fan-girly' on me. Sure, a good number of people wanted to at least say hi and shake my hand, but that's as far as it went."

"So why did you leave?"

"About six and a half months after I arrived, Death Eaters showed up where I was staying… or close to it. That's when I knew it was time to go. I didn't want to put anyone at risk… too many people had died already because of me. From what I heard though… the Death Eaters didn't fare very well. Canadian Aurors carted them all off to jail. Being a Death Eater is a criminal offence in Canada. And over there, the government is unsympathetic to cries of, 'I was under the Imperious curse'."

"Questioned thoroughly with Veritaserum, I should imagine," Bill guessed.

"Exactly," said Harry, "Just like the Australians, they have no tolerance for dragon shit. Like I said, they've had no real issues since the mid eighteen-hundreds."

"What if Voldemort tried to invade them?" questioned Matt. Harry only grinned, and shook his head. "He'd be barking mad to try that. One, the distance. See, you can't just apparate across the pond. And the Canadians are smart. They have a way of tracking port keys and so on. So if an unauthorized port key is used, the Aurors would already be waiting, along with a number of others from the Wizarding public… it wouldn't be a fair fight." Harry shifted onto his back, folding his hands across his chest. "See, there's another reason why they don't have issues like we do. The average witch or wizard in Canada would never stand for an invasion. I mean, Voldemort wouldn't let himself be captured or 'destroyed', but his followers on the other hand… you know what a lynching is?" Matt nodded. "Another point, Voldemort doesn't have all that many followers. He looks like he does, but really, all told, maybe about a hundred Death Eaters, maybe the same number of sympathisers."

"So why is it so hard to get rid of him?"

"Think about it," said Bill, "It's all about propaganda, and fear."

"Which runs rampant here in England," Harry continued, "English witches and wizards are so terrified of Voldemort, they can't even speak his name. It's 'you-know-who', or, 'he-who-must-not-be-named'. If just a few actually stood up to him, it could make a difference. If EVERYONE stood up to him, it would be over faster than you could say 'Quidditch'."

"But if people are so afraid, it'll just happen again," said Matt, "Sounds to me like you're trying to save the Titanic."

"I hope not. I guess it's just knowing when to head for a lifeboat."

"If you don't, I'll drag you off to one," said Bill, rolling onto his side, and bumping up against Harry.

"And if he doesn't, I will," added Matt, who mirrored Bill's motion. Harry was once again effectively pinned between them.

The following morning, Harry woke to once again find that Bill had already left, as he had been assigned a desk job at Gringotts. Harry knew this was now for not just one, but two reasons, and had to smirk at the second. He had the red-head wrapped around his finger, there was no mistaking it.

Speaking of wrapped around… Matt was once again partially on top of him, his mop of silky black hair partially obscuring his face. His right arm was slinked across Harry's chest, almost in a protective stance. It was almost a shame Harry had to get up, since Matt wasn't exactly a heavy sleeper. 'Well, if I have to wake him, might as well do it properly,' he thought with a smirk. He reached over, pushing the hair off of Matt's face, then leaned in, planting several soft kisses on his forehead.

"Mmmm…" Matt moaned, his eyes fluttering open.

"'morning," Harry greeted, "You sort of had me pinned."

"Right," said Matt, with a smirk, as the two of them untangled themselves. Matt quickly found himself in a tight embrace, being kissed deeply.

A knock at the door interrupted their impromptu snogging session.

"Come in," Harry called, after quickly making sure they were both decent—the knock had come from the door to the studio. It opened, and Owen entered. "Sorry… didn't mean…" he started, seeing how Harry and Matt were situated. He quickly understood what he had just interrupted.

"Don't worry about it," Matt smirked, "We'll just continue once you've left."

"Right… did not need to know that," Owen frowned, then, "It's after nine… we were gonna work on new material right?"

"Once I'm up yeah," answered Matt, "Give us a while, okay?" Owen only nodded, and stepped back into the studio, closing the door behind him. "Gotta spend some time with the guys… as much fun as it is learning magic…"

"I know. Don't abandon your friends. Let's get up and about, I still have other dragon shit to sort out as it is," said Harry, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Matt caught him around the waist, however, and dragged him back onto the bed. "What? All that shit can wait for now, can't it?"

"I guess…" yet, Harry had to grin. Matt was right, after all… and if he wanted to spend the morning snogging, that was quite all right with him. He gave a wicked grin, and pinned Matt to the bed. "So… you wanna snog all morning, then…" The guy's cheeks flushed slightly, and he swallowed. "Um…" Harry only smiled, planting a soft kiss on one of those cheeks, then worked his way down to his jaw, leaving several more there, sliding a free hand under his head, pulling them closer. He could already feel the blood rushing south with anticipation. Matt had certainly been a bit aggressive in their snogging sessions, but they had never been this far before.

"You okay?" questioned Harry, looking into those crisp, blue eyes.

"Yeah, fine… k-keep going," said Matt, whose heart was pounding as hard as Harry's. Harry only nodded, leaning in, and planting several more kisses on the guy's neck, pausing and using his tongue to play with the necklace he wore, causing him to twitch more than once. Harry smirked, noticing the reaction he had gotten, then quickly made his way down the chest, over to the right, and roughly licked his nipple.

The shudder he got as a reaction caused him to smirk again. The guy was VERY sensitive, no doubt about that. Bill was slightly sensitive, as was Cedric, but… WOW. 'This is gonna be fun,' he thought, placing a number of kisses and licks on his nipple. He switched sides, doing the same thing on the left side, this time causing Matt to grunt or moan several times—even more of a turn-on.

Harry worked his way further down the body, at last reaching the waistband of his white boxers—and here, he stopped.

"What'd 'ya stop for?" Matt questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"You want me to? There's no turning back after this."

"Harry… fuck me."

As Owen and the other members of "Thrice Defied" were checking their equipment in the studio, there came a shout from the next room: "OH GOD! OH FUCK!!" Owen gave a look of disdain to the door. "Bloody show-off," he muttered.

"At least he's not shaggin' YOU," said Patrick, with a shrug.

"No, like I said, I'd cut his fucking cock off first," Owen vowed. Several bangs came from the room, making them all look toward the door again.

Matt's band mates weren't the only ones to hear the noises coming from Harry's room. With the study being directly across the corridor, it was hard for those in the room not to hear the noise… and since the Order of the Phoenix was effectively using it as their headquarters, at that particular time of the day, there were more than a few people present. Molly stood up at once, making for the door, but Lily put a stop to that. "No. let us go check." Molly nodded, and both Harry's parents vanished from the painting. They returned only a few seconds later, Lily looking rather uncomfortable, James with a huge smirk on his face.

"Well?" Molly prompted.

"Fine, they're fine," Lily managed, still looking most unsettled.

"Well, what are they doing?" questioned Tonks.

"It's not our place to tell," answered Lily.

"Indeed, it is not," Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody threw in, his magical eye spinning wildly.

"Matt… you all right?" questioned Harry. Matt was now on top of Harry, and both of them were breathing heavily, their bodies glistening with sweat, the hair on both their heads a tangled mess.

"Fine. I… I couldn't be better, Harry."

"Good, good," Harry grinned, "I didn't hurt you?"

"A little… it's all right, don't worry about it."

"I know… it hurts the first time, but it gets easier. I mean… if you wanna do it again."

"Why would you say that? Stop being a prat," Matt scolded, leaning in and planting a kiss on Harry's forehead. "Right… need to get up, or it'll be another hour." Matt rolled off of Harry, then slowly sat up. He produced his wand, and gestured at himself, casting several cleaning charms. It took several tries before he got everything he could.

"You missed the back… here…" Harry gestured with a hand, banishing the sticky mess from Matt's back. "Stand up and I'll get the rest."

"Thanks." Matt stood up, and Harry momentarily enjoyed the view, before finally gesturing sharply with a hand. Matt found himself in much more presentable form, with all the sticky mess and sweat banished from his body. His hair untangled itself and fell about his shoulders as it should.

"Better?"

"Much."

"Me, I think I'll take a bath. Care to join me?"

"No. This'll do… best I get into the studio," answered Matt, although he too headed into the bathroom.

The bathroom was designed to handle four people at once, with a triple-sized, deep tub, a separate shower, and two toilets. A vanity ran along the opposite wall, with three sinks and a single mirror behind the far sink. Harry really didn't care for mirrors, but he had at least one boyfriend whose appearance was somewhat important to him.

For now, while Harry began to draw a bath, Matt stood in front of said Mirror, putting in his earrings. To Harry, they resembled small horseshoes. He ran a hand across his jaw, and muttered something unintelligible, them pulled out his small travel kit.

"You can leave that stuff out you know," said Harry.

"Just out of habit, I guess," answered Matt, "Travel and all."

"You know, there's magical equipment for shaving, right?"

"Easier than all this shit?"

"Much. Remind me next time we go into Diagon Alley and I'll get stuff for you."

"If you're… well… older… why don't you have to?"

"Because my body's still only fifteen. No matter what I look like… in actual years… my body's still fifteen, so that sort of thing… it's not an issue."

"That makes me feel real comfortable… after what we just did," Matt muttered.

"Like I said a long time ago… my body doesn't really matter, it's the spirit inside it," Harry explained. Matt still didn't exactly look comfortable, but set about shaving. He left just as Harry shut off the water, and was about to climb in.

He wasn't alone for long. Only seconds after Matt left, Dobby popped into the room. "Master Harry's doppelganger is wanting to know if you is ready for him to return."

"Not yet, Dobby. Have him continue adding rooms to the trunk, and if necessary, purchase another trunk from the trunk maker in Diagon Alley. Help him out if he needs it, okay?"

"Dobby is answering to Harry's doppelganger as if he were you, he is!"

"Good, that's good. Because he IS me."

"Dobby is delivering your message then!" He vanished with a light POP, and Harry had to smile. The house elves always gave him a reason, after all. Dobby was slightly bonkers, perhaps, but loyal to a fault.

His mind wandered back to what had transpired practically minutes earlier. He truly had three separate partners at this point, there was no doubt about it. Awkward might be the right way to call it, yet… there was no way he would deny any of them… and when Cedric recovered, he would be asking him to become bonded. The others would be something akin to a mistress, in the male form. It was a common thing, after all—at least historically.

Then again, considering not too long ago, he had caught Bill and Matt getting to know each other rather intimately… there might not be much of a stretch to make it more communal. A threesome would certainly be a treat… and a foursome… that would be uncharted territory.

His thoughts were interrupted, as Matt stepped back into the bathroom. He had gotten dressed, wearing a pair of faded black jeans with the knees tore out of them, and a black muscle shirt—his usual attire. Just thinking of the package inside of those jeans, and what they had just done not fifteen minutes sooner once again woke Harry's member.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Matt teased, shutting the travel kit. Harry only smiled in return. Not one of those warm, friendly smiles. No, this was one of those creepy ones… when the boy-turned-man was up to something.

"What?"

"Nothing," answered Harry, although he now grinned, and shifted about in the tub. He'd added bubbles to the water, since it functioned similar to a certain bathtub at Hogwarts.

"I'd join you but… really…"

"Join me? Good idea," Harry grinned manically.

"Harry, no—"

"Accio MATT!" Harry commanded, thrusting a hand at the guy. He found himself lifted off his feet, and straight at Harry, who now had both hands up to catch him, and was then instantly drenched from head to toe.

"Wanker," Matt muttered, reaching a hand to his back pocket, and retrieving his now very waterlogged wallet, still attached to the chain clipped to the front belt loop.

"Put it down and open it up," said Harry.

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

"Fine." Matt did as instructed. Harry gestured at it with a hand, casting a drying charm.

"Should be good as new."

"Wouldn't have needed to had you not dragged me into the fucking tub… Jesus Christ…"

"Well… you were just too hot and sexy for me not to," Harry grinned, snuggling closer. Matt sighed, resigning himself to whatever fate—or Harry—had in store. The boy-turned-man was already running his hands all over his soaked shirt, then lower, underwater, running a finger across the crotch of his jeans. Matt felt his cock twitch at the advances from the boy.

Suddenly, Harry stopped.

"Oh fuck…"

"Harry?"

"Just… no, not now…" Harry half-whispered, as a strong bout of vertigo slammed him from out of nowhere. He was trying to stand, but the feeling was too strong—never mind the fact Matt had seized onto him.

"Harry… what's wrong?" Matt reached over and grabbed Harry's face with both hands, forcing them to make eye contact. Then… the world seemed to fall away for Matt… the tub vanished, as did the bathroom, while a tremendous whistling noise filled his ears. He felt two arms grab hold of his midsection, holding on for dear life. What the fuck was happening?!

Then… BOOM! A tremendous flash of light, followed moments later, by a not-so-soft landing in a body of water. The last thing that registered in Matt's mind, was the smell of salt—and burning jet fuel.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: Weeeee, wasn't that fun? Hope the intimate scene wasn't too much for some of you. Yet, that had to happen eventually, and here was as good as any place for it. Now… I do need an opinion here. Should I elevate the rating to 'M'? Let me know._

_So… where have they landed now? Stay tuned to find out!_


	22. We're Not in Kansas Anymore

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __StoryTagger, scotsremusfan, Thenchick (who has thus far posted the most amusing review I've ever received), Vladimir Mithrander, and zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_As has been suggested, I have changed the rating to 'M', given the mature subject matter covered in the previous chapter. There WILL be more of that in the future._

_Also, I would encourage returning readers to please flip back to the prologue, as a few notes have been added, as well as an additional section with regards to Ninesto's travels._

_CAUTION: Coarse Language.  
_

_Date of publish: January 18, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XXI-**  
"**WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE"**

**Or, Harry and Matt wake up to yet another reality**

**

* * *

**Harry had just completed an apartment for the Weasleys in his third trunk. By the looks of it, that would be the last set of rooms he would be able to fit into it. The second one had been filled adding an apartment for Luna and her father—a check of their home had brought bad news, much like a visit to Cedric's. Both residences had been severely damaged.

Back to the task at hand, he would need to make a trip to Diagon Alley to procure a fourth trunk. He stepped into the study. "Guys. I've gotta go to Diagon Alley for another trunk," he announced.

"Best to send your clone," said Remus, looking up from a stack of parchment.

"I AM the clone, Remus," Harry answered. Moody only nodded from the other end of the table, his magical eye spinning wildly.

"Ah, right. I imagine my twin's rather occupied at the moment," Harry grinned. That got a scowl from several people at the table, grins from others. He started toward the fireplace, but stopped abruptly, as though he had been given a mild shock. "FUCK!"

"Harry?" questioned Remus.

"We've jumped—" Harry vanished.

* * *

When Matt regained consciousness, he found himself laying in a large bed, the covers drawn up to his neck. Rather comfortable, he thought. Then—

"Harry?"

"Shhhh, stay still," came a woman's voice to his right. His vision was still much out of focus, but he could make out at least three figures standing to his right.

"Take it easy, love, the both of you have been in the water a long time."

"Harry. Where's Harry?" Matt managed. His voice sounded parched and raspy.

"What's your name, lad?" questioned another.

"It's Matt. But—" he needed not finish, finding the object of his question in bed beside him. "Is he okay?"

"He hasn't woken, if that's where you're going," replied the woman, "How are you feeling?"

"Dry, very dry."

"I'll get you some water," said a man outside his line of sight.

"The both of you are very lucky to have survived. Rather curious, finding the pair of you as we did."

"Yes, curious indeed," spoke yet another female, from outside his vision, "Rather suspicious, given the incident that transpired not far from where we picked you up."

"Why? What happened?"

"You tell me," said the man, slipping into his line of sight. The man was obviously important—captain, perhaps, dressed in a naval uniform. Matt's mind was beginning to clear, and he thought carefully about the last things he remembered. "How were we found?"

"Your friend—although we're certain the two of you are far more than that—were found floating in the South Pacific two days ago," explained the first woman, while a glass of water was placed to his lips. He drank greedily. "Given the incident the captain is referring to happened over a week ago, the both of you are very lucky to be alive. Captain," the woman said, turning to the man who clearly filled that title, "As I said earlier, I strongly doubt these boys brought down Air China 782."

'We crashed a PLANE?!' The thought screamed in his mind. The confirmation hit him like a two-ton lorry. The explosion… and the smell of jet fuel. How many people had been killed? How had he and Harry survived? Had magic somehow protected them, at the cost of possibly hundreds of others? He closed his eyes, fighting the freight train of emotions that threatened to run him over. "Harry can't ever know," he said, quietly. Knowing Harry for barely a month, Matt knew what that sort of knowledge would do to him.

"I ask again, how is it you came to be floating adrift in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?" the captain demanded.

"I don't know," replied Matt, "Last thing I remember, is a loud explosion, and the smell of jet fuel."

"And before that?" inquired the woman still outside his line of sight.

"Harry and I… we were getting cleaned up."

"That would explain why one of you was found not wearing a stitch of clothing," said the first woman—Matt realized she was a nurse, dressed in a starch-white uniform. With a better look at his surroundings, he realized he was in an infirmary. The opposite side of the room contained several beds, with the usual life-saving appliances one would expect in such a place. "He was in the bath," Matt explained.

"And you suddenly found yourselves in the middle of the Pacific Ocean," the captain deadpanned, clearly doubting Matt's explanation.

"Captain. I really don't think he's in the best shape to answer questions just now," said the nurse.

"I'd have to agree, the other should be awake before we continue this," noted the second man—clearly a lower-ranking member of the crew.

"Are we under arrest?" questioned Matt.

"That remains to be decided," answered the captain.

"Then I'm not saying another word until I've spoken with the English consulate. What country are we in, anyway?"

"The commonwealth of Diconcenturia, love," answered the nurse.

"This is the HMCS Destiny Star. We were—" the captain began.

"Diconcenturia? Never heard of it," Matt interrupted.

"no, and you wouldn't," answered the captain, "We're hidden from the rest of the world, and have been for nearly three centuries."

"Why?"

"A question I won't be answering, even if I could," answered the captain, curtly. Matt already had a low opinion of the people in the room, and that comment only degraded it further.

"Fine. Leave me be," said Matt, rolling over on his side, bumping up against the other occupant of the bed. Someone let out a huff, and said, "Let me know when the other one wakes. Perhaps he will be more cooperative."

"Don't keep your hopes up," Matt muttered.

"I'll let you know, captain." Moments later, a door slammed.

"You have to understand the captain's position, love," the nurse continued, "he has every right to be suspicious. The plane crash a week ago is already being treated as a terrorist act. Over four-hundred people were killed."

"So we're guilty just because we were found in the same place?" Matt snorted, turning back over to face the woman, "Look. We didn't exactly ASK to be dropped in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Holy FUCK people are dim!"

"I know the both of you have secrets, but now is not the time for keeping them," spoke the nurse. She too, then left the room, along with the others.

Matt lay on his back, thinking of the situation they found themselves in. Now he knew what Harry felt like the first time they had met. By the sounds of it, they had been thrown into a different dimension again. As he remembered from Harry's description, this was what happened to him the first time, including the harsh landing. That would also explain why his body ached so much.

Glancing around the room and confirming they were truly alone, Matt reached a hand to his forearm—good, it was still there. A flick of his wrist, and his wand appeared. No, no strange Muggles would be relieving either of them of their wands—at least so Harry had said—come to think of it, most magical folk wouldn't be able to, either. He pointed the tip at himself, whispering, "Episkey."

Outside the ward, in the infirmary office, the nurse watched the security monitor, quite astonished, as the dark-haired man waved a stick at himself, and a burst of light flew at him. Secrets indeed! The captain would need to know of this! She picked up a phone, and punched in a number, her eyes still fixed on the security monitor.

Meanwhile, Matt continued to heal the sores he could actually get to—Harry would have to help him when he woke. At least he didn't hurt so much. Next question: what time was it… and for that matter, what date was it? "Tempus," he whispered. '3:18a' wafted from the tip of his wand. "Datus," he whispered. 'July 14, 2009' came from the tip.

"Definitely not in Kansas anymore," Matt snorted, sitting up. His back let out a scream of protest. 'Gonna need Harry to help fix that,' he thought, with clenched teeth. Getting up would be down right painful, but now that he was awake, it was then a necessity. There was a bed pan on the table beside the bed, but hell would freeze over the day he would stoop that low.

Getting to his feet was no small task, with a moderate bout of vertigo threatening to force him back into bed. He fought it off, and at last, feeling stable enough, set off in search of a toilet. A glance about the room found a small room at the opposite end. He could see a toilet, and quickly crossed the room.

After doing his business and splashing cold water on his face to help further wake up, Matt returned to the bed. It was most curious they had both been placed in the same bed—not that Matt minded any. Perhaps they worked a little differently.

For the first time, Matt got a good look at Harry. Surprisingly, he looked as good as the last time Matt had seen him. Whatever happened to them hadn't done too much to him—at least from a visual standpoint. Yet, why had he not woken? Harry was a hundred times more powerful than Matt—it didn't make sense! He again produced his wand, pointing it at Harry. "Ennervate!"

Harry's eyes snapped open, he let out a gasp, then slumped back onto his pillow.

"Harry, come on, wake up," Matt pleaded. No answer, although the wizard's chest still rose and fell as if he were merely sleeping. Matt elected to try a different tactic, and stowed his wand away. He leaned in, and gently kissed him, stroking his cheek with a hand. "Harry…"

He found himself gazing again into those startlingly emerald green eyes, which danced with amusement at being woken in such a way. It quickly vanished, however. The guy obviously knew at least part of what happened.

"Matt," Harry breathed, "Bloody hell, I thought you were dead."

"Thank god you're all right. We…"

"Jumped dimensions," Harry finished, "Tempus." '3:20 a' wafted from the tip of his finger. "Where are we?"

"On board some ship in the idle of the Pacific," answered Matt, "The people here are weird, claim to be from some country I've never heard of."

"You okay?" inquired Harry, seeming to look Matt over.

"Yeah, fine. You?" replied Matt. Harry only frowned for a moment, then gestured at himself. "Fine now."

"Show-off. Now if I could find my clothes and belongings." Harry only smiled again, holding out a hand. Moments later, the missing items flew toward them. After making sure everything was accounted for, he went to put on the shirt. It had been shredded in several places. Harry only smirked, gesturing at it with a hand, restoring it to its original condition.

"You mind if I make a copy of it? I suspect they found me without any clothes."

"So the nurse said," said Matt, as Harry duplicated his shirt. He banished his hospital gown, then threw on the shirt.

"And I suppose you want a copy of my jeans too."

"If you don't mind—although they need mending too, by the looks of them," Harry smirked, while Matt put his chain back on. It reminded Harry of the chain used to connect a drain plug to a bath tub, except that it was brass-coloured.

"Let me do something," Harry offered, "Seeing you're so attached to it…" he touched a finger to the chain, and whispered something unintelligible. "There. Just like our wands, only you can take it off."

"Thanks. I'm missing one of my ear rings, and my wallet—Fuck."

"That stuff can be replaced, but your wallet was sitting on the edge of the tub when we… well… when we vanished."

"Harry. Why are you so calm about this? I'd be half 'round the twist by now! I swear, I'm half there now!"

"Because you're here," Harry answered, "I'm not alone. YOU'RE not alone." He pulled Matt into a tight hug. "This will get sorted, it always does." Just then, the door to the ward opened, and a group of people entered. Harry absently checked for his wand, hoping he wouldn't need to use it. Matt, of course, recognized the faces from earlier, one of them being the captain.

"Who are you?" questioned Harry.

"Captain Scott Hollister, HMCS Destiny Star, on board which you both now find yourselves. And who are you? Full names, if you please," spoke the captain.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. And this is Matt Tyson," Harry introduced.

"I would welcome you aboard, but the circumstances under which the pair of you were recovered have raised a number of suspicions," said Captain Hollister.

"No doubt," answered Harry, as he gently pushed into the captain's mind.

It took him several moments to locate the information he needed, while Matt once again argued with the man.

"Right. Matt… just a second. So you think we somehow destroyed a commercial aircraft full of people?"

"Harry?" Matt arched an eyebrow, as did most of the others in the room.

"I have ways. Look. It's quite possible we may have caused the crash."

"So you admit it, then," spoke the captain.

"I said it was a possibility. But if we did, it was by accident. You have secrets, I know. So do we."

"So we noticed, Mr. Potter," spoke the nurse from earlier. Harry had a peek at her memories, but had a good idea of what he would find. "Matt… you need to be more careful, statute of secrecy, remember?" Harry reminded.

"But—"

"Surveillance cameras," Harry answered, producing his wand. "What do you know about magic?"

"More than you might expect, Mr. Potter," answered Captain Hollister.

"What about time travel and alternate realities?"

"There's debate as to whether either are possible."

"I can assure all of you, both are very real," said Harry.

"It would explain a few things, sir," spoke the officer with the captain.

"How open is your society to the concept of magic?"

"Considering our King is vested his authority through an ancient magical artefact…" 'O', Harry mouthed.

"So… non-magical people know about magic."

"Yes, very much so," spoke the nurse. "Curious to know, Mr. Tyson, what was it you were doing with your wand—I assume it's a wand—earlier?" Matt looked at Harry, who only nodded. "Healing charm."

"We certainly aren't able to wield magic such as you can, Mr. Tyson, but we do have some who are more than adept."

"I wish I had a pensieve, I could show you at least what I remember," said Harry.

"What about just passing them, like you did with Ron's parents?" Matt suggested.

"Sharing memories?" Captain Hollister arched an eyebrow.

"It doesn't hurt," said Matt.

"All right, then," the captain agreed.

"Then look into my eyes," said Harry. Captain Hollister did so, and found a brief burst of memories that were not his own flashing before his eyes—memories that matched Matt's explanation earlier.

Captain Hollister thought carefully about what he had just been shown. Harry's memories confirmed what he already knew: the two boys in his sick bay had nothing to do with the crash of Air China flight 782. Their magic clearly worked differently than in the commonwealth, but all the same, it WAS magic. "If the both of you will accept our apologies," he said.

"Of course," said Harry, "In your place, you've got every reason to be suspicious."

"Indeed we do."

"Now that we've got that all sorted, perhaps they should be given their own private quarters," said the nurse, "I don't have any reason to keep them here."

"Yes, quite right," Captain Hollister agreed.

The stateroom was quite nice, although not all that roomy, with a double bed, a small desk, and a very small bathroom.

"I apologize for it being a rather tight fit," said Captain Hollister, "But we don't typically carry civilian guests."

"It's fine by us," said Harry, "Guess I should say thank you for rescuing us."

"It was the right thing to do. I'll leave you both to get comfortable. Someone will be along at Oh-seven-thirty to show you to breakfast."

"Thank you, captain," said Harry, with a nod of the head. The captain returned the gesture, and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.

"Harry. Why are you being so nice? The guy's an asshole," said Matt, sitting down on the bed. Harry noticed him wince.

"You're still hurt."

"My back."

"Episkey," Harry commanded, thrusting a hand at Matt. He almost cried out, feeling his bruised back muscles instantly heal. "Sorry."

"No, feels better, thanks."

"We have to be nice to these people, whoever they might be," answered Harry, "Merlin only knows what kind of world we're in—and remember not to use Riddle's name—I'd rather not have Death Eaters showing up."

"Right." Matt stretched out on the bed, and Harry wasted no time joining him. Sure, he had just woken up, but with nothing else to do, it was too easy to snuggle up against each other. Harry knew better than to do any substantial magic at this point, having been incapacitated for at least a week. He did, however, erect an alarm ward, in the event someone decided to step into their room unannounced.

What seemed like an instant later, there came a knock at the door. Harry dispelled the alarm ward, then called, "Yes?"

"May I come in?" came a voice with a thick Irish accent from the other side of the door. Harry looked over to Matt, who was still trying to wake up. He was decent, so Harry called out, "Come in."

The door opened, and a guy their age entered the room. The first thing Harry noticed about him was his hair. Red, as in fiery red. His face was a mass of freckles, and he appeared to be built like a tank, his white tee-shirt barely containing the mass of muscles that made up his arms and torso. Harry had no difficulty imagining what was hidden by the pair of loose camouflage combat pants he wore. "'mornin, lads. I've been asked to show you to breakfast," he said. Harry, however, hadn't heard, still enthralled by the rather attractive specimen who framed the doorway.

"Harry?" said Matt.

"Oh. Right, sorry," Harry muttered. The guy frowned for a moment, but said, "The name's O'Callaghan. Lucas O'Callaghan."

"Harry."

"And I'm Matt." Lucas blinked for a moment as he got a good look at Matt. "You're not Matt Tyson?"

"He is," said Harry.

"Bleedin' Christ!" Lucas exclaimed, "Your music is wicked!"

"Thanks," said Matt, with a nod.

"So—how did you end up… well, in the middle of the Pacific? Where's the rest of the band? Can—"

"Mr. O'Callaghan. Breakfast," said Harry, "I haven't eaten solid food in a week."

"Yes, quite right, sorry. Follow me, then," said Lucas, his face flushing with embarrassment.

The crew dining room—or mess hall, as Harry remembered the correct term—was cramped at best, but so was the rest of the ship they had seen so far. Lucas helped them to collect their breakfast, and they made their way to a vacant section of table—there were four long tables, which somewhat reminded Harry of the great hall back at Hogwarts. The ceiling was quite low, and if he stood on tip-toes and reached, he could easily touch it. So it was definitely not Hogwarts. Although he had a suspicion of what they were truly on, Harry finally questioned, "What kind of ship is this?"

"It's a submarine," answered Lucas.

"I thought so. It's been a while since I've been on one."

"It doesn't bother you?" questioned Lucas, although he was still looking at Matt.

"Mate, there are things far more frightening than a submarine," answered Harry, with a shrug.

"Aye, there are," Lucas agreed, as he finally took his eyes off Matt, and focused on his breakfast.

"So what do you do? On board, I mean?" questioned Harry.

"Oh. I'm an engineer. Just coming off duty, actually. I'll be chaperoning you guys today for the most part. You're probably thinking, 'we don't need babysitters', but trust me, this is a big boat, 'an the captain would rather you not get lost somewhere."

"No, that's fine, I understand that." Harry thought for a moment, then questioned, "Diconcenturia. I've never heard of it. Where is it exactly?"

"You're familiar with the Bermuda triangle?" questioned Lucas. Harry only shook his head, but Matt nodded.

"Long story short, lots of paranormal activity's been reported there, right?" Matt again nodded. "Well, there's a good reason for it. Our capital city is smack in the middle of it."

"And you're using wards to keep the outside world away," Matt guessed.

"If you were a betting man, you'd win handily," said Lucas, "Indeed, very powerful repelling wards. 'course, once in a while, something gets through 'an there has to be an intervention."

"Intervention?"

"Makes sense," said Harry, "Although I doubt you mean killing."

"No, 'course not," said Lucas, looking a little put out by the suggestion, "We simply introduce them to our society, and explain it's a one-way trip. They are invited to bring their close families and friends and so on, with a few limits—and they can't ever tell anyone else about it."

"What would prevent someone from say, telling a friend on the pretense of bringing them along, but… in reality, they… well—" Harry questioned, but Lucas interrupted, saying, "No. We check out those people they would want to bring, monitor their movements and the like."

"Sounds like big brother bullshit to me," Matt threw in.

"But it's for security. There are things we have which… if the world ever found out about it… we would be invaded. It's simple as that," Lucas explained.

"But why?"

"Harry… think about it," said Matt, understanding exactly where Lucas was going, "It would be like the world finding out about the wizard world, right? At least from where I'm from."

"Along exactly that line," said Lucas, "Although…" he seemed to think on it for a moment. "You're both truly from another world then?"

"How much do you know about me?" questioned Matt.

"'Thrice Defied' is just about to release a second album sometime next year," said Lucas.

"Second? God, we've only put out one so far."

"After we're done here I'll show you. I've got everything you guys released so far." Both of them looked at Harry, who was shaking his head, rubbing his forehead with a hand. "What?"

"Hermione's gonna go spare," he muttered.

"Harry… it's a different universe, it won't matter," Matt challenged.

"I guess." He blew out a breath. "Who knows… we might not make it back anyway, for all I know." That got a swat from Matt. "Hey!"

"Stop being a pessimist." Matt thought for a moment, then questioned, "How do you know about us, then?"

"Just because we're hidden from the rest of the world doesn't mean we're disconnected from it," Lucas began, "The arts, music, movies, whatever's going on in the rest of the world, we certainly know of it. There's a large number of our people who work outside our borders, so we keep up to date with things. I mean, how else do we get our fifty-six inch plasma televisions from Japan?" he finished, with a smirk.

"How big is your country?"

"About a hundred million, give or take a few," answered Lucas, "Centuria Primus is our capital, anchored to the sea bed right in the middle of what the rest of the world knows as the Bermuda Triangle. We're headed for Centuria Kilauea, which is hidden about fifty kilometres off Hawaii's Big Island. It's the second largest city in the commonwealth."

"Named after the volcano there," Matt guessed, to which Lucas nodded.

"You've built cities on the ocean floor," Harry stated, in disbelief.

"Yes. Either underwater, or deep underground. In each case, there are strong protective wards around them, to keep the world at large away," Lucas explained, "We've done well for over three hundred years."

The trio fell silent, as they finished their breakfast. Sure, what seemed like a million questions were buzzing around inside Harry's mind. Yet, he knew Lucas was perhaps telling more than he should at this point. There were people much higher up the chain of command with the answers he needed, after all.

Harry noticed Lucas was still occasionally glancing at Matt, but understood it was more of a 'fan' thing than an infatuation—a cursory glance at a few of the guy's memories confirmed this, along with a few other things. Wait, was that… jealousy? Harry smirked to himself, pushing the rogue emotion aside. Of COURSE he would feel that way, considering what they had been doing not long before they were sent flying off into another dimension.

There was another issue. It was the second time this had happened. Why?! He screamed in his head. As if things weren't chaotic enough, having to deal with Voldemort for a second time! Was it too much to ask for him to just… have a simple life? To grow old with his loves, maybe adopt a few kids. 'But no, the universe must actually hate me,' he thought, bitterly.

With breakfast over with, Lucas led the pair back to his quarters, which seemed to be much deeper in the boat. They passed what seemed like dozens of doors, down stairs that could better be called ladders, to at last stand in front of a door near the end of a particular corridor. A brass plate secured to it at eye-level read: Lucas O'Callaghan. 'Chief Engineer's Mate' was printed right below that in small letters.

"Chief Engineer's mate?" questioned Harry.

"One of four, actually. I'm just below the Chief Engineer," answered Lucas, inserting a key into the lock, and turning it clockwise. It opened with a subtle click. "Sorry 'bout the tight squeeze," said Lucas, ushering them inside, and closing the door behind them.

It was every bit as cramped as the quarters assigned to Harry and Matt, perhaps a bit smaller. There was a single bed with storage above it, while directly opposite was a small table that better functioned as a desk. Unlike their own quarters, Lucas did not have his own bathroom.

"Not enough room to swing a kneazle," said Harry, getting a smirk from Matt, and a grin from Lucas.

"I think the saying goes, 'Not enough room to swing a cat'," Lucas corrected, to which Harry nodded, saying, "Wizarding expression."

"But you're right. We don't have a whole lot of creature comforts as you can see. But it's home." He pointed to the wall opposite the bed, which seemed to be plastered with posters of several rock bands, including 'Thrice Defied'. Matt pointed at the second one. "I don't remember this one. The other one… that was just released not long ago."

"You look weird without your piercing," Harry commented, while Lucas was digging around in the compartment above the bed. "Ah… got it." He pulled out a small leather case, and set it on the table. He opened it up, and thumbed through the number of compact discs, at last pulling one of them out.

"Scream, Aim, Fire," Matt read the cover.

"The first album was wicked, but this is better," said Lucas. Harry only nodded, and gestured a finger at the disc. "Geminio!" An exact copy of it appeared neatly stacked on top. Lucas only stared for a moment. "Right, forgot you guys can do that."

"Mostly Harry," said Matt, picking up the disc, "I'm still learning."

"So… do your band mates know magic too?"

"No, just me."

"He's a special case," said Harry. Lucas only nodded, once again digging around in the overhead compartment, pulling down a set of headphones, and a device no larger than Matt's mobile.

"It's an ipod," said Lucas, as he plugged in the headphones.

"I used to have one," said Matt.

"Then you know how to use it. Here… this is one of the tracks off that album," said Lucas, gesturing to the disc in Matt's hand. Matt slipped on the headphones.

"So how did you guys meet anyway?" questioned Lucas, taking a seat on the bed.

"Similar to how we've met you," answered Harry, "This isn't the first time we've been to a parallel universe. Last time was just as wild as this time."

"Yes, pretty lucky we were in the area," said Lucas, running a hand through his hair, "We picked you up just outside of our normal patrol area."

"Right. If anything I've been lucky, I guess," said Harry, with a shrug, "I just hope that luck holds out, and we can get back where we belong."

"Will others come for you?"

"Unlikely. It's something I have to work out for myself. It really helps I have someone with me this time." Harry gestured at Matt.

"That would make all the difference in the world… better to experience the unknown with a friend, rather than surrounded by strangers."

"Well said."

"Not mine… my wife's," answered Lucas.

"For how long?"

"Five years," answered Lucas, gesturing to a single portrait resting on the table. In it were three faces, all of them having bright, red hair. The woman smiling back from the portrait reminded Harry somewhat of Ginny… at least as she looked at the end of seventh year the first time around. Lucas had his arm slinked around her waist, also smiling brightly, his other hand resting on the shoulder of a boy of about three or four, who looked a little put-out at having to sit still for the photograph. "My wife, Meghan, and my son, Seamus."

"Do you see them often?"

"Yes, I'm quite lucky," said Lucas, "All the major holidays and so on… my title has earned me the right. I've been able to watch my son grow up through my own eyes, and not just photographs."

"Your picture reminds me of my best friend's family. They're all red-heads as well. A beautiful family they are—and so is yours… I can tell that much."

"What of your own family?"

"It's… I'd rather not discuss it," said Harry, curtly, turning his eyes back to Matt. Lucas only nodded, making to pack up the case on the table. Matt put a finger on the disc, saying, "got a marker or something?"

"Right." Lucas took a thin marker out of a small drawer, and passed it to Matt, who opened the CD case, and autographed the liner.

"Wicked!" Lucas grinned, closing it and sliding it back into the leather case.

"We've written part of the song I'm hearing… we haven't put music to it yet… unbelievable," said Matt.

"Different universe," Harry smirked.

"Wanker."

"Prat."

"Okay, then," Lucas grinned, "You can bring that with us. I'll take you guys up to the control room—" Suddenly, the entire room seemed to heave violently, throwing the three of them to the floor.

_AUTHOR NOTES: A nod to Lyman Frank Baum, author of "The Wizard of Oz", from which the chapter title borrows a reference._


	23. Destiny Saved

Destiny Saved

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: _Thenchick_, _and zutarakid50_. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_CAUTION__: Coarse language._

_Posted January 23, 2010_

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXII-  
DESTINY SAVED **

**Or, Destiny Star's crew gets a helping hand**

**

* * *

**It took several seconds for Harry to regain his bearings, as the deck had not re-levelled itself.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" he managed.

"We've taken damage, it felt like the caterpillar drive!" Lucas exclaimed.

"The what?" Matt managed, trying to help Harry back to his feet, he himself still reeling mentally from the shock.

"No time to explain," said Lucas, picking up a telephone handset, and pressing several buttons on its connected console. "Engine room… yes… how bad? …no… right, be there soon as I can." He hung up. "Flying fuck! Come on, we're abandoning!"

"What?!" Both Harry and Matt chorused.

"Our propulsion drive on the starboard—right—side of the ship overheated and blew a hole through both the inner and outer skins. Captain Hollister's ordered evacuation soon as we surface."

"The boat's made of metal, right?" questioned Harry, while Lucas was fishing out numerous items from the overhead compartment, and packing away the few critical items he would keep with him.

"Yeah, of course."

"Then show me. Whereabouts would the damage be?"

"You can't be thinkin' about fixin' it!" Lucas scoffed.

"Harry, no, it's fucking dangerous!" Matt protested, but Harry ignored it, saying, "Look, I've faced things a lot more dangerous than a hole in the side of a ship. You know the ship pretty well, I imagine."

"Yeah, 'course."

"Then where? Where would the damage have occurred? Just think up the area, and look into my eyes. I'll be able to see it."

"Bullshit."

"Trust him," said Matt, although he still doubted the sanity of what Harry planned to do.

"Fine." Lucas stopped what he was doing, and met Harry's gaze, carefully thinking of the starboard side of the ship, namely the lower aft portion of it. He found those images intensify momentarily.

"Got it."

"But the captain's likely already got us into an emergency surface… never mind the fact you have no way of getting outside until she does!" Lucas objected. He had just gotten the words out of his mouth, when the deck seemed to heave again, as the vessel seemed to angle upward. "Now come on, let's get up to the control room at least!"

By the time the trio reached the control room, the massive submarine had settled back on an even keel. The room was a beehive of activity.

"Radio, con… any contacts?" Captain Hollister spoke into an intercom.

"Negative on all channels, sir," came the reply.

"Continue to monitor. Chief of the boat, set out the rafts, lash them loosely to the deck."

"Aye sir," spoke a burly man from the forward part of the room, partially obscured with equipment.

"Sir. Are we surfaced?" questioned Lucas.

"Affirmative, Mr. O'Callaghan. I see you have our guests with you. Escort them topside and help them into a raft. Looks like you gentlemen may get a touch wet again."

"Doesn't bother me," said Harry, "Sir, I might be able to help…"

Harry was once again swearing at everything holy, as he dove off the side of the Destiny Star, plunging into the warm waters of the Pacific. 'Destiny, fate, or perhaps both, must have a real hard-on for me or something,' he cursed in his mind, as he kicked hard, diving deeper into the water, alongside the massive boat. Bubbles were rising alongside it in a fury, making it quite easy to locate the damage.

A light coming from behind him forced him to turn around, and find Matt was following him. 'Guy's got balls, gotta give him that,' he thought, then, 'How in Merlin's name did he manage a bubble-charm?' Matt was gesturing to him to keep going, so he only nodded and continued his descent, once again following the bubbles.

The damage to the outside of the boat was not so much a simple, large hole, but a number of tears in the side, where the metal had just simply failed from the force of the explosion. Harry could easily pick up a strong magnetic field coming from inside. It was rather curious, feeling a field that strong. He would have to be careful in what he was about to do… strong magnetic fields and magic sometimes caused unpredictable results.

The brightening of the area signalled Matt's arrival, and Harry set to work. Interestingly, he was also feeling another strong field, as he began casting a repair charm on the damage. Right, a sort of disillusionment charm… so THAT'S how they keep themselves hidden, he realized. He beckoned for Matt to inch a little closer, continuing to mend the damaged metal.

All in all, the explosion had blown tears stretching across nearly twenty feet of the hull. In some places he could actually see a faint light coming from inside—likely from the mysterious propulsion system the Destiny Star was equipped with. What had Lucas called it, a 'caterpillar'? Something to do with a large magnetic field?

He was pulled out of his thoughts, as several more lights appeared to be coming from the underbelly of the vessel. Dark shapes were then coming up to meet him. Members of the crew, Harry realized, wearing SCUBA gear, bringing with them various tools they would likely need in making repairs. They were clearly impressed with the state of things.

With the additional light, Harry beckoned for Matt to help him finish up the repairs—Matt definitely knew how to cast the repair charm after all. With the additional wand, the work was completed in less than ten minutes. A quick inspection from the newcomers, and the four of them headed below, to what Harry assumed was an underside access.

He was correct, as they were led up through a hatch, into what looked like a large cylinder of sorts, with a hatch-like door on one side. Once they were all inside and the bottom hatch sealed, one of the divers reached up and yanked a small lever. There was a burst of bubbles from several places in the chamber, and Harry noticed the water was starting to drain out of it. Within just a few moments, their heads were clear of the water, and he banished the bubble-head charm from his face—Matt was quickly doing the same.

Less than thirty seconds later, the chamber was emptied of water, and one of the divers banged loudly on the side hatch. It was quickly opened, to reveal Lucas waiting on the other side, ankle deep in water. Clearly, they weren't out of the woods yet.

"Come with me, we've still got water coming in," he declared.

"Lead the way," said Harry, then to Matt, "Thanks for following."

"Like I was gonna stand up topside while you could possibly drown?"

"Right."

"That was most impressive spell work," spoke one of the divers. Both of them followed Harry, Matt, and Lucas, as they made way back up a number of catwalks and ladders, into what looked like the main engine room.

"Pretty simple charm, really," answered Harry, dragging a lock of soggy hair out of his face, "I mean, one of my best friends learned it BEFORE we ever started school. A bright witch, she is and all, but still." They found themselves being led into yet another tight companionway, where the water was getting a little deeper. They were nearing the source of the flooding, then.

"Matt… we'll need to work together this time, I think," said Harry, "We may not be able to get close to the damage."

"You think we can fix it in one shot?"

"I don't know, but it's worth a try."

"You pull that off, an' I'll eat one of my soggy socks," Lucas vowed.

"Careful what you wish for," Matt smirked, as they sloshed through the now knee-deep water.

"Did they seal this area off?" questioned Harry.

"Yeah, the flooding's contained to the engine compartment at this point," said Lucas, "But complete flooding of the engine compartment would cripple us."

"Where is the power plant?"

"Above the engine compartment, so that won't be an issue. Harry, you seem to know your way around a boat."

"Like I said earlier, I've been on one for a bit, quite some time ago. Enough to know my way around, you're right about that." The water was by this point almost up to their waists, and they at last arrived at the source. Electricity was sparking from one of the conduits a few feet ahead, and water was swirling in through a gaping hole in the lower part of the wall. "Right. Looks like that's your problem." He pointed to the swirling water.

"Careful 'round the hydro, lads," Lucas warned.

"We know. Matt… touch your wand there… I'm on the other side." Harry waded over to the opposite side of the hole, pressing his back against the opposite side of the companionway as he passed it—the water flow was rather strong. Finally able to get around it, he pressed a finger to the wall. "Ready?"

"Ready."

"3. 2. 1…"

"REPARO!" Both Matt and Harry commanded in unison. There was a distinctive CRUNCH, and the water instantly stopped swirling. Harry dragged a hand through the seawater, and banished it, leaving behind a relatively dry compartment.

"A most astounding display of power, young mage," spoke one of the crew members still dressed in diving gear, save for the head.

"There's probably still water in the engine room," said Harry.

"Don't' worry 'bout it, mate," said Lucas, "The pumps'll get it, we'll be bone dry within an hour."

The group retreated back the way they had come, until they at last stood in a sectioned off area in the larger engine room. There was indeed still water in the room, but Harry trusted Lucas' words. Said red-head was already picking up a handset on a nearby telephone, and punching in a code.

"We're all very grateful for your assistance," said the first diver, "Had we had to do that by hand, we might not have been able to fix it."

"Only glad to help some new friends," answered Harry, with a smile.

"We most certainly would have all survived, but the boat could have been lost," said the second diver.

"Would have been most costly," the first diver agreed. Just then, there was a loud CLUNK, and the clattering of gears. Both Harry and Matt wheeled around to find a large metal door sliding back on its guides. Watertight door, Harry realized, as Lucas hung up the phone.

"Captain Hollister passes on his deepest gratitude," said Lucas.

"Mr. O'Callaghan, we're all clear, I assume?" spoke a man, as he stepped through the opening. He was dressed similar to Captain Hollister, other than the markings on his uniform. He was perhaps in his late fifties, possibly his early sixties, with thinning white hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a pair of eyeglasses, and for some reason, the image of Santa Claus popped into Harry's mind.

"All clear, sir," answered Lucas.

"Good, very good."

"Sir. May I introduce Harry Potter, and Matt Tyson," said Lucas, "Guys, this is Tom Karrick, chief engineer, and my immediate superior."

"Indeed. The honour is mine, gentlemen," said Tom, as they shook hands, "We are all in your debt."

"Sir, the captain wishes for us to get under way as soon as we're able."

"We'll likely want to conduct a full investigation into what happened to the starboard caterpillar," said Tom, "But in the meantime. What of our steam?"

"Two-hundred and thirty-five pounds on the gauge, sir," came a reply from a short seaman, glancing at a set of gleaming brass instruments on the wide panel, "But the reactor's about near its cut-off point unless we start. With two thirds of our power plant off line, it's making too much steam."

"Mr. O'Callaghan, radio control, pass word we'll be spooling up the conventional screws, and I need a speed order."

"Aye sir." Lucas once again picked up the telephone, while Tom himself glanced at the series of instruments.

"Enough gear here to scare an airline pilot," said Matt.

"But they all likely know what does what," said Harry. Indeed, the massive control bank they were staring at was a mix and match of old-fashioned analog gauges, intermixed with high-tech electronic meters and instruments. Lucas hung up, saying, "We have orders to make revolutions for thirty-five knots, sir."

"What about those up on deck?" Matt wondered.

"They've already been brought inside. By the time the two of you were finished, we had only just begun the evacuation, Mr. Tyson," said Tom, "Right lads, let's make it snappy. Spool up the turbines, we make revolutions for thirty-five knots."

"Yes sir," spoke an engineer directly to Harry's right, as he began cranking a large hand wheel in front of him. The motion was mirrored on the opposite side by another engineer, while others set about monitoring various pieces of equipment. In the short time the watertight doors had been reopened, the room was already becoming a beehive of activity, as though a beast were slowly awakening. There was a subtle hiss of steam from an indistinguishable location, and with it, a barely audible whining sound. Yet, as seconds passed, it began to amplify, soon drowning out the hiss of steam.

"Sir, if everything's clear, perhaps it best I take our new friends back up to control."

"We have it from here, Mr. O'Callaghan," said Tom, having to speak a little more loudly with the whining noise becoming almost uncomfortable.

"Let's go, guys," said Lucas, leading them through the open watertight door into the next compartment.

"Take my arm," said Harry.

"What for?" questioned Lucas, but Matt only smirked, knowing what Harry was about to do.

"Do you trust me?"

"'course! After what's just happened?"

"Then take his arm," said Matt. Lucas only sighed, and grasped Harry's upper arm. They vanished with a moderate POP, indistinguishable from the incredible noise from the engine room.

They reappeared in the companionway just outside the control room—Harry knew better than to pop into that space unannounced. That would be a sure way to be shot, likely more than once, at very close range. Matt only smirked at Lucas, who was looking VERY green at the moment.

"What the hell was that?!" Lucas swore, fighting back the bile that was threatening to launch from the back of his throat. It felt like he had been squeezed through a very small hose. He took in his surroundings, and had a bewildered expression on his face. "How the hell—"

"It's called apparition," Harry explained, "Since I've been here before, I was able to just… well… teleport us here, saves us walking."

"Right. Could've warned me," said Lucas, sourly, as his stomach had at last stopped doing loop-the-loops in his abdominal cavity.

"But what would've been the fun in that?" Matt smirked, as the three of them at last stepped into the control room.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Tyson. Once again I thank you for lending your wands to help out," said Captain Hollister.

"Only glad to help, captain," answered Harry, as he once again took in the moderate-sized room that was the nerve center of the boat. All eyes were currently fixed on him, as members of the crew took in the two wizards who more than expertly fixed a serious threat to the boat. Harry could tell his standing with these strangers had just gone up by more than a few pegs.

"How long will it take for the inspection of the caterpillar drives to be completed?"

"A few hours, sir," answered Lucas, "I know Tom's pullin' most of the off-duty staff in, myself likely included—"

"No, I think it best if you remain with our guests for now," Captain Hollister decided.

"Right."

"Con, radio," a nearby intercom set squawked. Captain Hollister picked it up. "Radio, con."

"New contact, bearing zero four-seven degrees, closing at twenty-six knots and accelerating. Reads as an American destroyer, sir."

"God damn it! Thank you radio." He hung up the set, then turned abruptly. "Rig the ship to dive!"

"Rig the ship to dive, aye captain," spoke a tall officer standing just behind two sailors in front of a massive control bank. Both had what looked like control yokes in front of them.

"I have contact on the scope," said a seaman already manipulating an electronic map. The sub's position was clearly in the centre of it, while a red blip had appeared to the upper right of it.

"What's our current speed?" called out Lucas.

"Twenty one knots and accelerating, sir," answered one of the sailors at the control yokes. Lucas only nodded. They were half-way to the requested speed—the boat responded pretty quickly to the helm, after all.

"Boat's rigged for dive, captain," spoke the tall man, "We've got pressure in the boat, and a green tree, sir."

"Bridge is clear, sir," spoke another officer on the opposite side of the rather cramped control room.

"Diving officer, make our depth five-zero-zero meters, twenty-five degree bubble."

"Aye sir."

"You guys better hold on," Lucas warned, while the tall man—clearly the diving officer, replied, "Making our depth five-zero-zero meters, twenty-five degree bubble, aye. Signal for dive, dive!" Three bells rang out at once, while one of the seamen at the controls began to push his yoke toward the console. Lucas pointed to the seaman at the controls, explaining, "He's the stern planesman. His control yoke controls both the stern planes and the rudder. The other operator, the bow planesman, controls the bow planes."

Within seconds, the deck began to tilt, as the Destiny Star slipped beneath the waves on a twenty-five degree angle, as requested by her master. Another large digital display was drawing a faithful reproduction of the boat's orientation in the water, both laterally and vertically, giving a rather graphic depiction of their steep descent. At the top of it was listed her current speed, heading, and depth, which was increasing at an alarming rate.

"We're fully under, sir, twenty-five degree bubble," said the diving officer.

"Very good. What's our contact doing?"

"Still holding course zero-four-seven, captain."

"Captain, why were we seen in the first place? The chameleon ward should have worked."

"That's because it was disrupted," came another voice from the opposite side of the room, "They likely saw us on their radar, although only briefly. It would make sense for them to investigate."

"And our protective wards?" queried the captain.

"Everything else is still in place, sir, although the strengthening enhancement was disrupted temporarily—likely from the explosion in the starboard caterpillar."

"Strengthening enhancement?" questioned Harry.

"There's nowhere the Destiny Star can't go. You know where the Marianas Trench is?" inquired Lucas. Harry and Matt both shook their heads.

"It's a deep crevice in the earth's crust—I won't get into the how's or the why's, but… it's close to the Philippines, and it's the deepest known spot on the planet. It goes down over seven miles, roughly eleven-thousand meters. We've been down there with Destiny Star," Lucas explained.

"Holy fuck, at that depth… wow…" said Matt, shaking his head.

"Yeah, might as well bend over and kiss your ass good bye—not that you'd have the time," said Lucas, snapping his fingers, and saying, "POOF, you're gone."

"Right," said Harry, thinking for a moment. "When I was making repairs… I could feel some of the wards, including the disillusionment charm. It was working."

"Disillusionment? You mean our chameleon—right," said Lucas, understanding at once.

"It felt pretty strong," Harry repeated.

"It was off momentarily when the explosion occurred," said the earlier speaker, "All the wards were disrupted briefly with the explosion… It was a good thing we weren't at a significant depth, we would have been destroyed."

"Gives me great comfort to know that," said Matt, darkly.

"Passing fifty meters, captain," reported the diving officer.

"Rigging for blue," spoke another officer, and a moment later, the lighting took on a blue hue.

"Con, radio," the intercom squawked. Captain Hollister picked it up. "Radio, con."

"Another contact, captain, bearing two zero three degrees, closing our last surface position at thirty-four knots, ID'd as an American Los Angeles class attack sub, at depth two zero-zero meters."

"Got it charted," said the officer managing the electronic map, as yet another light lit up in the lower left portion of the map.

"If our wards are working correctly, they'll pass right by us and not realize it," said Lucas, "It's happened too many times to count." Just then, the digital display showing the ship's orientation turned blue for a moment, and a man's face took up the picture. He was a fair-skinned with mousy-brown hair and a thin face, but wore the uniform of an admiral. "Captain Hollister," he spoke, "What's your status?"

"All clear, admiral," answered the captain, "Seems our two guests were more than adept at helping out."

"Is that so? Well, then! Our gratitude to the both of them," spoke the admiral, smiling broadly. "What's your speed and heading?"

"Making a fast track to Kilauea sir," answered the captain, "I'm sure our guests would like to put their feet on dry land sooner rather than later."

"Indeed. Pacific command out." The display reverted to display the ship's orientation, which still indicated a steep twenty-five-degree descent.

"Now passing one hundred meters, captain," reported the diving officer.

* * *

At the commonwealth's Pacific command headquarters, stationed at Centuria Kilauea, the same admiral whose face had appeared on Destiny Star's digital display only moments earlier sat back for a moment. The large digital display at the centre of the room had enhanced the image taken just a few moments before, now isolating the two guests aboard the flagship of the Pacific fleet. Both had black hair which fell to their shoulders, although they both better resembled drowned rats at that point. One had eyes which shone like emeralds, his face covered with several faint scars. Whoever he was, he'd been through hell at some point.

The other… looked familiar. Where had he seen that face before?

"Sir. The Destiny Star's sent us a bit more information about their guests. Harry Potter, and Matt Tyson," spoke an officer from a terminal behind him.

"Yes, thought one of them looked familiar. Pass that information on to the COC. Not that either of those boys are any threat to us… the circumstance of Mr. Tyson, however, is somewhat of a concern, considering who he truly is."

"Already passed the information ahead, sir. The Destiny Star reports both of them are magical."

"Indeed?"

"I've forwarded that information to the Chamber of the Lamp in Centuria Primus… the guardians might be interested."

"Yes, no doubt! Our guests continue to surprise us."

* * *

"Now passing four hundred-seventy-five meters, captain," informed the diving officer, "Ease off the bubble." Moments later, the boat began to level, reacting to the changes to her control surfaces. Interestingly, there had been no internal groaning of the metal, such had been the case the last time Harry had been on a submarine. Of course, that would be from the powerful wards surrounding the boat, protecting her from the incredible pressure.

"Zero bubble," reported the planesman.

"Now at five-zero-zero meters, captain," reported the diving officer, "Speed now twenty-nine knots and continuing to accelerate."

"Very good." Captain Hollister picked up the intercom mouthpiece. "Engine room, con."

"Con, engine room," came the reply. It was chief engineer Karrick.

"What's the status of the caterpillars?"

"Still a no-go, captain, not until we find out exactly what happened. Mr. Potter has perhaps fixed things a little too well, in that we don't have a lot of evidence as to exactly what happened."

"Sorry," said Harry, with a shrug.

"Don't worry about it," said Lucas, while the captain continued to speak with the chief engineer, "Those engines are most delicate as is, likely would have taken days to sort it out."

"I could probably stick an unbreakable charm on them," Harry offered.

"Now that's a sort of magic I've never heard of," said Lucas, surprised.

"How fast can the ship actually go?" questioned Matt.

"In excess of fifty knots, but her top speed is actually classified," answered Lucas, "As it is we will require some sort of agreement of non-disclosure given what you've seen thus far."

"Right." Harry drew his wand, held it in front of him, saying, "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic, that I shall keep secret anything regarding the HMCS Destiny Star. So mote it be." A golden swirl of magic wafted from the tip of his wand, to bury itself in his chest.

"Ummm… right, then," said Lucas, while Harry nudged Matt. He caught on, and quickly gave his oath as well.

"We reveal anything, we'll lose our magic, it's that simple," Harry explained, to questioning looks, while he stowed his wand away.

"We've actually reached seventy knots on numerous occasions," Captain Hollister stated.

"Destiny Star and her sisters jointly hold the speed record, although unofficially," the diving officer piped up.

"Unofficially, yes. But hands down, we can generally run circles around anything else out there save for our own fleet," Captain Hollister explained.

"So your caterpillar is some sort of magnetic engine," Harry guessed, "I could feel the strong magnetic field as I was casting repair charms."

"You're exactly right," said Lucas, "Magneto-hydrodynamic propulsion. There have been a lot of experiments around its use, but we finally got it right about twenty-five years ago. Magic has certainly helped, of course."

"Why don't you guys just use… well… just use magic for propulsion?" questioned Matt.

"The amount of magical energy it would have taken to create such a charm… it's just not done. We push it as it is with the wards on the boat," explained Captain Hollister, "I understand magic works somewhat differently for you two… but for us, it's not ever easy."

"Sir, the American submarine just passed over top of us," said the officer at the twin display panels. From where they stood, Harry and Matt could see the red spot that indicated the other submarine was in fact just a hair off the mark that indicated the position of Destiny Star. The gap was opening rapidly. Captain Hollister picked up the intercom handset. "Radio, con."

"Con, radio."

"What are the Americans doing?"

"There's no indication they are following, sir."

"Keep me apprised."

As it approached supper time, Lucas had given Harry and Matt a lengthy tour of the boat, and at last ended up back in the engine room.

"Mr. O'Callaghan, most opportune time for you to arrive," said Tom, "We've been over the computer logs and other sensors."

"You've solved the mystery of what caused the explosion earlier," Lucas guessed.

"Aye we did. We were finally able to detect animal matter around the intake, seems a marine organism of some kind was pulled into the engine."

"Like a bird-strike on an aircraft," Matt guessed, to which Tom nodded, continuing, "Exactly. Most of the time, that sort of thing just passes through the engine without incident."

"This time, however, it may have sometime previous, swallowed something metal," spoke another engineer, "From what we determined, it was likely the organism was pulled to the side of the engine where it literally cooked, overheated the side of the channel, and finally exploded with the resulting damage."

"We'll need to put screens over the inlet to prevent that from happening again, sir," said Lucas, to which Tom nodded. "That will be taken care of when we land at Kilauea. In the meantime…" he picked up the intercom. "Con, engine room."

"Engine room, con," came the reply.

"We're ready to restart the caterpillar," Tom reported.

"Very well. Secure the conventional props, restart the silent drives."

"Securing the conventional props, restarting the silent drives, yes sir." He hung up the handset. "Stop engines."

"Aye sir." Engineers set to work shutting down the main engines, and at once the loud whine in the engine room began to lessen.

"Commence start up of the caterpillars, spool up for thirty five knots."

"Yes sir." Engineers at a different station began entering commands into a terminal.

"Restarting electrical plants two and three, sir," reported yet another engineer at another station.

"We need the extra electricity," Lucas explained, "The caterpillars use a lot of power."

As the noise from the main engines at last died out, the engineer at the power control board reported, "Power plants two and three up to speed."

"All dead on main engines, sir."

"Secure the engines and feather the props."

"Aye sir."

"Commencing caterpillar start up," came another engineer, as he set another set of switches on his terminal, and keyed in another series of commands into the computer. Matt, Harry, and Lucas had moved to stand behind that particular terminal as the engineer worked. It had several monitor screens, one of which showing a lengthwise section of the boat, highlighting two long channels running alongside it.

"Opening caterpillar doors, sir." The action was represented graphically on the monitor, while the engineer continued entering instructions into the computer. Within moments, the channels alongside the boat began to change colour, from the blue shade around the drawing, to a more green colour, changing to a warmer yellow shade at the bottom.

"That's a graphical indicator of what's actually happening in the caterpillar," said Lucas, pointing to the display, "The yellow end is warm water, being propelled out the back of the tubes. Think of it as a linear induction motor in the water."

"Sorry?" Harry looked confused.

"The water going through the channel—" Lucas gestured to the monitor, "—is acting like a motor, pulling the boat through the water. That's the best description of how MHD actually works."

"It's both incredibly simple, yet insanely complicated," the engineer at the terminal commented, "It requires a shit-load of electricity for one."

"We've slowed to eighteen knots, sir, but the caterpillars are coming up to speed now."

"How long will it take to recover?" questioned Harry, curious.

"A couple of minutes at worst," answered Lucas, "It's one thing about MHD, it's very efficient, with no moving parts." The yellow shade at the bottom of the channels had now turned more of an orange shade, indicating the engines were heating up.

"Why does it get hot, though?" Harry wondered aloud.

"It's the friction of the water going through the engine. It's one thing we can't really do anything about," Lucas explained, "In fact the engines themselves are wrapped with miles of cooling pipes, through which we circulate near-freezing water."

"A cooling charm would do quite nicely there," said Harry.

"Caterpillar now at fifty percent operational capacity, sir," reported the engineer at the terminal, "Speed now twenty-two knots and accelerating."

"Engine room, con," the intercom squawked. Tom picked up the handset. "Con, engine room."

"Caterpillar is back up to speed?"

"Yes captain."

"Good. Go to one hundred percent capacity."

"Going to one hundred percent capacity, yes sir." He hung up the handset. "Spool up to one hundred percent capacity on both silent drives."

"Yes sir." The engineer at the terminal began entering more instructions into the computer.

"We'll be up to seventy knots within ten minutes," said Lucas.

* * *

It was nearing midnight, when the Destiny Star at last arrived at Kilauea. Both Harry and Matt were more than surprised at the world they now found themselves in. For, had they not been told they were in fact on the bottom of the Pacific ocean, they would not have known it.

"Mr. O'Callaghan, it looks like the Chamber of the Lamp wants to speak with our guests," said Captain Hollister, "Since you've established a bit of a report with them, would you mind escorting them?"

"Not at all, sir. If I may be allowed to stop by and visit my family, since we'll be returning to Centuria Primus."

"By all means. It looks like we'll be in port for ninety-six hours as it is for us to make modifications to the inlet ports for the caterpillars."

"Thank you, captain." Captain Hollister only nodded, turning back to Matt and Harry. "Once again I think the both of you for your help, you did far more for us than you may realize."

"It was no bother, sir," answered Harry, "I just wanted to help, glad I could."

"Ditto," said Matt.

"Do take care, the both of you," said Captain Hollister, extending a hand.

"You too, captain," said Harry, as they shook hands.

"Sir… I actually do need to return to my quarters for a moment."

"Of course."

Less than five minutes after, Lucas reappeared, bringing a small duffle bag. "All right, gents, let's be off."

"Where we headed?"

"See that orange truck over there?" Lucas pointed to an orange truck with a strange seal on the side of it. "That'll take us where we need to go."

"Grab my arm, then," said Harry. This time, Lucas caught on quickly, and both he and Matt clutched Harry's arm. They vanished with a noisy POP, only to reappear beside the indicated vehicle.

"Still can't get used to that," Lucas muttered, as the front passenger door to the vehicle opened, and a man in a suit got out. For some reason it reminded Matt of the 'Men in Black' movie. Secret service, likely, he guessed.

"Mr. O'Callaghan?"

"Yes."

"I've been instructed to escort the three of you back to Centuria Primus."

"So Captain Hollister has explained."

"Not all of it," spoke the man, beckoning for them to get into the vehicle. Harry shot a questioning look at Lucas, but Lucas only nodded, indicating it was okay.

Climbing into the vehicle, Harry had to smirk to himself. So they DID know a thing or two about magic! The interior of the vehicle, a future GMC model, he assumed, was significantly larger than it was on the outside. There was easily room for ten people. Harry took a seat, with Matt quickly claiming one beside him. Lucas sat on the opposite side of Harry, and as soon as they were seated, the vehicle took off.

"How are we getting to Centuria Primus?" Harry questioned, "It's on the other side of the ocean, right?"

"We have a similar form of transportation to how you… well… pop from place to place," Lucas answered, "That sort of thing is available to just about anyone, through numerous terminals."

"Can people apparate… err… teleport… like I do?" questioned Harry.

"Yes, most magical folk can. An interesting parallel between what we know of magic and that which you do," answered Lucas, as they sped away from the naval yard.

"So this is really on the ocean floor," said Matt, looking quite surprised.

"I assure you, it is," said one of the 'suits'. There were two of them, in addition to the driver. "Your first contact with the commonwealth?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, "It's incredible."

"We've come a long way since we started building things on the ocean floor," said Lucas, "We've a full diurnal cycle, and in non-tropical cities, we have limited representations of the seasons and weather as well."

"So it snows indoors?" Matt arched an eyebrow.

"Somewhat limited, but yes."

"A diurnal cycle? What's that?" questioned Harry.

"Notice it's dark here?"

"Well… it's the middle of the night, right?"

"He means day and night cycle," one of the 'suits' clarified.

"Oh."

The vehicle sped down a number of streets, as the surroundings changed from somewhat industrial in appearance, to a mix of industrial and commercial buildings. They at last pulled up to a small building, which somewhat reminded Matt of a petrol station—at least partly. A tram of some sort was parked on tracks off to the side, with passengers boarding and leaving it. What looked like a carpool was busy with vehicles picking up and dropping people off. The spot was busy, even with the late hour.

"Where are we?" Harry at last questioned.

"Kilauea teleport hub," supplied the driver, briefly, as they pulled into a parking spot. There were several identical vehicles in the other spaces.

"Every city in the commonwealth has at least one. Centuria Primus has three," Lucas explained.

"We'll be teleporting close to the royal offices," the second suit stated, "Seems his majesty wants a word with you first."

"Shit. Probably won't do to appear like this, then," said Harry, gesturing with a hand. The pair of jeans and muscle shirt he was dressed in became a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt.

"If you could do mine as well," said Matt. Harry only nodded, and Matt suddenly found himself dressed in a similar fashion, his hair once again tied in a short pony tail.

"All right, gentlemen, let's go," said the driver.

As Harry had imagined it, the small facility was a beehive of activity. One side, labelled 'Arrivals', had groups of people clearly waiting for their friends and colleagues, much like a Muggle airport would. The other side, as expected, was labelled 'Departures', and there they found several lengthy queues of people waiting for their turn.

The group, however, did not join a queue. They were led directly to a gate of sorts, where staff controlled the traffic. The suit who had been driving pulled out identification, saying, "Official business, make way." The staff controlling the gate held up a hand to the next group of patrons, and waved Harry's group forward.

"We're the government," said Lucas, to Harry's questioning glance, as they were led through a large set of doors, to what was simply a large red circle. They gathered in the middle of it, and the operator questioned, "Where to?"

"Centuria Primus Central terminal," spoke the first suit. The operator entered a code into a very simple terminal in front of him, then spoke, "Ready?"

"Ready," answered one of the suits.

It felt exactly like a port key, including that strange hook about the navel. Bizarre, though, there was no disorienting feeling about it—everyone stood up straight, as they travelled through space and time—to land in an identical red circle.

"Welcome to Centuria Primus," the operator greeted, "If you would clear the pad, please…" Harry only arched an eyebrow, feeling none of the disorienting effects of the 'port key', as the suits led them through the entrance. They had not even cleared the room, when another group of people appeared on the pad.

"Busy place," Harry finally managed.

"Very," answered Lucas, "Given we don't have airplanes, and travel by sub would take weeks in some cases."

"Wicked, other than the fucked up feeling in the stomach," said Matt.

"You get used to it after a while," said Lucas, with a shrug, as they were led to another government vehicle, identical to the one they had left in Kilauea. Unlike in Kilauea, the sky was already beginning to lighten, heralding the approaching dawn.

The trip to their next destination was much shorter, with them pulling up to what looked like a large estate of sorts. The driver flashed his identification at the gate house, guarded by the military, Harry assumed. He was only able to got a brief look at them, but they appeared to be dressed all in black.

"His majesty's black watch," said Lucas, catching Harry's glance, "The King's special unit. Trained in both magical and non-magical tactics."

"All of them wizards?" questioned Matt.

"No, actually not. However, we have tools which allow those without magical ability to keep up with those who do have," answered one of the suits, "Magical tactics revolves around mostly magical tools."

"Right."

"Back in our own world, the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office would be in a right state, I think," Harry threw in.

"But why would you wish to keep your world hidden? Magic is a wonderful gift, not something to be ashamed of!" said Lucas, astounded.

"Our world is rather backwards," answered Harry, with a shrug, "I have a few friends who are not magical, and they agree with that. On the other side of things, most of the magical population is actually afraid of Muggles—sorry—non-magical folk."

"Now that's a load of shit," the driver snorted, as they pulled into a small underground garage. There were perhaps twelve parking spaces, most of them occupied. They parked beside another identical vehicle to the one they were in. They got out, and the driver spoke, "Follow me."

The inside of the building reminded Harry somewhat of a very expensive hotel he had stayed in once. Up a set of elevators decorated in cherry wood and brass, they stepped into what was the foyer of the building, dressed in a similar flavour to the elevator, save for the chequered black and white floor, made of either marble of granite. Most likely marble, Harry guessed. The edge of the floor where it met the walls was red in colour, with what looked like a brass edge built into the floor. The walls were dressed with cherry wood up to the chair rail, with off-white paint finishing it.

The group was led through a security gate, where they were asked to register, and were handed visitor passes.

"Keep those on you at all times," Lucas warned, "If you're found without one, you could end up in jail."

"Right," said Harry, as he slipped the pass on over his head.

"If you'll follow me, then," said the second suit in their group. They were led around the corner, to a set of double-doors, at which stood two sentries, dressed in bright red uniforms. They both moved to stand in front of said doors on approach of the group.

"Escorting Mr. Matthew Tyson, and Mr. Harry Potter, as requested by his majesty," spoke the first suit. One of the sentries only nodded, and rapped three times on the door. Seconds later, the two doors slid back, revealing a rather ordinary outer office on the other side. Two additional sentries stood just inside the door, although they made their presence known. "Enter," spoke one of them.

There were several smaller offices, with walls that were practically filled with windows. Most were unoccupied. They finally stopped at a single large workstation, which just beyond, lay another set of double doors. These also, were guarded by sentries, also dressed in bright red uniforms.

"Mr. O'Callaghan. Nice to see you again," spoke the woman seated at said desk. She had coal black hair which was done up in a single braid, and strong, Asian features.

"Is his majesty in? We were ordered to bring Mr. Tyson and Mr. Potter directly here this morning," spoke the third suit.

"He will be with you shortly. COC needed a brief word."

"Harry, Matt, this is Lucy Chen, one of his majesty's royal secretaries. Lucy, this is Harry Potter, and Matt Tyson," Lucas introduced.

"The both of you must have done something special to attract the attention of King Miles," spoke Lucy.

"Only having done some right amazing feats of magic," said Lucas, with a grin.

"Is that so?" Harry only grinned, gesturing at a potted plant resting on a nearby filing cabinet, causing it to briefly lift into the air.

"Show off," Matt smirked, as Harry set the plant back down. Just then, the double doors slid open, and two men stepped out, giving the suits a nod. The doors slid closed again, but that instant, the phone at Lucy's desk rang. She picked it up, spoke for a moment, then hung up. "The king will see you all now."

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTE: We won't be spending much longer in this universe. Harry's here for a couple of reasons, although I won't say much more than that. Likely one, maybe two more chapters, and we return to Harry's world._


	24. Past and Future Threat

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __zutarakid50, and Thenchick__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Caution: Coarse language._

_Chapter posted January 26, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XXIII-  
PAST AND FUTURE THREAT**

**Or, Harry gets another glimpse of what may be ahead**

**

* * *

**Unlike the outer office, the office they had stepped in more than matched the rest of the building, with opulent woodwork and appointments. Just a single desk occupied this office, but directly in front, were two couches with a coffee table between them. It reminded Matt of the Oval Office at the White House, which he had seen more than a few pictures of. Two sentries stood inside the door, as was the case at the door to the outer office. The reasoning was not lost on Harry, this was their monarch, their head of state.

The man who held that title was no older than Harry or Matt, with short, light brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a very thin face. He smiled broadly, as he greeted them.

"Your majesty, Harry Potter, and Matthew Tyson," spoke one of the suits, then to Harry and Matt, "His majesty King Simon the Second."

"An honour sir," said Harry, inclining his head, as they shook hands.

"Gentlemen, you may wait outside," said the King, gesturing to the suits.

"Sir?"

"I don't believe these gentlemen will be an issue for me. Please wait outside."

"Very well," spoke the second suit, and the trio left the room, the door sliding closed after them.

"Now. Let us make ourselves comfortable," spoke the King, gesturing to the couches. Matt and Harry obliged, taking up one couch, while Lucas and the King occupied the other. "Would you like anything? Tea, coffee?"

"If you'd let me, sir," Harry offered, producing his wand. The King only nodded, and Harry conjured up a tea service, which included a small tin of cookies.

"Yes, so the COC has reported your abilities," the King smiled, as he poured himself a cup of tea.

"COC?" Matt inquired, adding, "Sir?" He still found it strange someone no older than himself wielded such a position of power.

"Forgive me. Central Operations Centre. It's a facility far below the city where critical decisions are made with regard to the operation and safety of the commonwealth," answered the King.

"That would make sense," said Harry, "You would want to be sure we're not a danger."

"That too, yes," said the King, with a nod, "But not the only reason. Your magical abilities are noteworthy. You both are truly from another universe?"

"Yes sir."

"Then it is more than likely your time with us is temporary."

"No offence, your majesty, but I hope so, too. I've left friends behind, never mind the destiny on my shoulders. I have a job to do, and I can't do it here."

"Never mind he's left two boyfriends behind," Matt smirked, earning him a swat from Harry.

"Two—" the King arched an eyebrow, then smiled. "Indeed?"

"Helps that Matt is here. He's my third," Harry smirked back, sticking his tongue out at Matt. This meeting was by no means formal, Harry was able to determine rather quickly.

"That must be rather awkward, for the four of you then," said Lucas.

"No, not really," answered Matt, "Harry loves all of us equally."

"Right, yes. Your majesty, the reason we're here."

"Indeed," said the King, with a nod. "Gentlemen, the Guardians of the Lamp have asked to speak with you both."

"Guardians of the Lamp? Who are they?" questioned Harry.

"They monitor and study a great magical artefact here in Centuria Primus," the King explained, "They also take interest in events of magical nature. Your arrival here in our universe is most definitely within their purview—don't be concerned, they only wish a word and nothing more."

"They sound something like our department of mysteries," said Harry.

"Sir, Captain Hollister requested I escort them," said Lucas.

"As I'm already aware, Mr. O'Callaghan. I know all too well what it feels like to be in a strange place among strangers."

"Yes, very true," said Lucas, with a nod. Just then, the doors slid open, and Lucy stepped into the room. "Your majesty, the Guardians are ready for you at any time."

"Thank you, Lucy," said the King, standing. "Gentlemen."

"Harry, Matt…" said Lucas, "Look out the window, see that beam of white light?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"That's from the Great Light, and that's where we're going," said Lucas. One of the sentries was already speaking into a radio he had unclipped from his belt. Likely to form an escort party, Harry guessed, as he banished the tea service. It was his mess, only fair he clean it up, after all.

Less than a minute later, the group passed back through the doors to the outer office, the sentries falling in behind.

"The men in red are my personal guard," the King explained, as they passed back out to the building's foyer. This time, however, they turned right, through several sets of doors, to a separate set of elevators, and a short ride down three levels. Another corridor, and this one seemed to go on forever, although decorated in a similar fashion to the rest of the building. As they walked, Lucas pulled out his mobile, and pressed several keys. He was on it for the next thirty seconds, then closed it up, and slipped it back into a side pocket.

They finally arrived at another set of doors, this one of glass and brass. One of the sentries produced what looked like a credit card, and pressed it into a card reader on the right side of the corridor. There was an audible 'click', and another sentry pulled the door open. On the other side of the door, stood two men also dressed in black. They snapped to attention on sight of the monarch.

The group had stepped into a large, circular atrium of sorts. It looked to Harry, like they were near the top of it. An almost painfully bright beam of light rose through the centre of it—Harry realized they were on a platform or balcony of some sort.

"This was the beginning of Centuria Primus," said Lucas, "This goes down about sixty storeys, not including the chamber of the lamp, where we're going."

"If you'll follow me," said one of the sentries, indicating a nearby elevator. Harry could feel the strong residual magic in the air.

"This used to be much bigger, right?" Harry guessed. King Simon nodded, explaining, "This was where the commonwealth truly began, nearly three centuries ago." They had all stepped into the elevator at this point, and the sentry again produced his key card, sliding it into the reader, and pressing one of the buttons. They began a rapid descent. "At one point, everyone lived here, nearly fifty-thousand citizens."

"Where were the houses?" questioned Matt.

"They would have ran off from the centre here," said Lucas, "Once we began building above, and everyone was moved out, everything was sealed up."

"I thought something like that," Harry said, with a nod, "Although somewhat drowned out by the energy coming off the beam."

"Yes, and it would," said one of the sentries, "You feel the heart of the commonwealth." That got a questioning look from Harry and Matt.

"The Guardians will be better able to explain it," said Lucas.

The elevator at last came to a gentle stop, and the doors opened to reveal a no longer circular room. On the other side of the elevator, the floor was sunken by nearly four feet, with sets of stairs providing access wherever it wasn't blocked by equipment. Numerous individuals sat at various stations or work tables around the perimeter.

Yet, Harry's eyes were drawn to what lay at the centre of the room. A massive sphere he estimated to be nearly fifteen feet across was suspended in mid-air, about six feet off the floor. It was almost painful to look at, with the intense white light being radiated from it. A single beam of light was being projected from its top, extending up into infinity.

"King Simon, your visit was unexpected." Everyone turned to find a middle-aged woman stepping up to them. Her greying hair was pulled back in a tight bun, which in many ways reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall. Yet, her face was not as severe as the Transfiguration Professor's. She was just a little taller than Harry, wearing a simple dark blue robe. She smiled at the group, saying, "I presume you have brought our guests?"

"I have, Madam Guardian," answered King Simon, with a bow of the head. Harry arched an eyebrow. The King, bowing to another individual? Very odd. He posed the question.

"The King vests his authority from us, young mage," answered the woman, "We are Guardians and caretakers of the great light." She gestured to the intense sphere in the centre of the room. "I am Sandra Telwain, Supreme Sorceress, Guardians of the Lamp."

"An honour, my lady," said Harry, giving a bow of the head in respect, following the lead of King Simon. Matt, in turn, followed Harry's example. "I'm Harry, and this is Matt," Harry introduced.

"Indeed, young ones. Welcome to the chamber of the lamp. Not many are given the privilege of attending this location," said Sandra, "Do follow me."

Up close, Harry was almost staggered by the amount of magical energy radiating from the massive sphere at the centre of the room. He'd been around immensely powerful magical items before, but this… was above and beyond those. Almost by instinct, Harry reached up to feel the object.

"Harry!" Matt warned, but it was for naught, as Harry touched the artefact, almost willed to do so.

Harry was assaulted by a series of visions. In the first, he found himself in the strange location he had landed in when Voldemort had struck him with the killing curse. This time, however, he saw things as a non-participating party. Black shadows were swarming into the amphitheatre, their shapes seeming to swallow up the light around them… almost as if they were holes in time and space. The individuals he had seen dressed in the gold trimmed robes were each being seized up by the shadows. One of them demanded, in a voice not of this world, "Where is it?"

"Away. Away from this place. You will never lay hands on it, this I promise you."

"We will see," the shadow laughed, "We will see…"

Equally, he was a spectator, watching as what looked like the entire city of Los Angeles was upended and dumped into the Pacific. It was as if massive pieces of the very ground had heaved up, a macabre serving of unholy misery. Buildings, vehicles, pieces of highway, all being tossed about as though by a massive, unseen hand.

Another unbelievable scene played out before him, of a massive wave of water, burying Hogsmeade as though it were a mere play set, smashing over Hogwarts as if it were a sandcastle. The wave had to be thousands of feet high! Harry actually felt like he had been struck in the gut with a bludger, as the horrible scene played out before him. What in Merlin's name?!

One final scene played out for him: a simple wooden crate. It opened on its own, revealing a strange device that in some ways reminded him of a Muggle typewriter. The symbols on the keys, however, were most certainly not English. He found himself pressing one of the keys, and everything went white.

Harry found himself prone on the floor, with Matt kneeling beside him, almost panicked at what was going on. "Harry?!"

"I… it's okay," Harry answered, getting into a sitting position.

"Harry… that was FUCKING STUPID!" Matt exploded, "What if you'd been killed?!"

"Bloody hell I didn't expect!—" Harry stopped, realizing Matt was right. It had been a stupid thing to do, not knowing exactly what they were dealing with. Yet, the damage had already been done, and lucky for Harry, the worst thing that had happened was a few visions, and a throbbing head. He found himself helped back to his feet, although he still felt disoriented.

"Have a seat," someone said, and he found himself gently pushed into a chair.

"What happened?" questioned Lucas.

"Visions. I—they don't make any sense," Harry stammered.

"Indeed," said Sandra, directing the group's attention to a nearby monitor, "Mr. Potter, we were able to collect the visions you saw during your contact with the artefact. If it is all right with you, may we share it? Any time something like this happens, our instruments here record it."

"Yeah, of course."

Everyone fell silent as the recording was played back.

"Mr. Thomas. If you would retrieve the case in storage, please," Sandra directed, "I believe it will be the item in question from the final vision." The man in question rose from his seat, and quickly left the sunken area of the room.

"Mr. Potter. Do you recognize any of the people from the first scene?"

"Yeah, I've seen them before, save for the shadow-like people… if they can be called that."

"Do you realize who they are?" questioned Sandra. That only got a shake of the head from Harry. "They are Magical Ancestors, at least as we know them. Immensely powerful individuals. They have control of time, space, and the elements."

"They still exist, then?"

"Oh, very much so, Mr. Potter. For them, time is meaningless. They exist outside of normal time and space."

"The shadows are most alarming, my lady," spoke a woman at a separate workstation. Clearly, she was also a Guardian.

"As they also concern me. Something which can threaten the Magical Ancestors is concern for us all."

"Forgive me, but who are they exactly? The Magical Ancestors, I mean?"

"Very little is known about them, young mage," the woman continued, "What we do know, they have an immense wealth of knowledge, easily drifting from one dimensional plane and time to another. They are regarded in our sense as the stewards of magic itself."

"Do they have an interest in me?" questioned Harry.

"If you've had contact with them before, then likely yes. But trust me when I say, their interest is nothing of a sinister nature."

"So those shadow things will be after him," said Matt, darkly.

"I can't answer that, Mr. Tyson," answered Sandra, "As it stands, this is something we have never seen either."

"Great. So not only do I have one of the most dangerous dark wizards in history after me, I might have some dark entity on top of it. Great, just great," Harry growled, then blew out a breath. "The universe truly hates me."

"Equally unnerving, my lady, would be the two scenes that followed in his vision," said King Simon, "Unspeakable destruction."

"Yes, I agree. However, those events are most likely not of his world, Simon," Sandra pointed out, "Just as the events with the Magical Ancestors, it is more than likely this was of another universe."

"No, knowing my luck that dragon shit is my future," Harry snorted.

"You can't believe that," said Sandra, "Not everything revealed here is set in stone. Do remember, there are things that MAY happen, and things that WILL happen."

"But… the shit we just saw… it was pretty fucking specific, I think!" Matt challenged. Harry nodded his head in agreement.

"Enough of this dark discussion," declared another guardian, "Let us discuss the young mage's abilities. It is why we have asked him here, is it not?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Sandra, "If you would be willing to share some of your ability with us, Mr. Potter."

"No harm in that," answered Harry, thankful for the redirection of the conversation.

For the next several hours, Harry demonstrated some of his magical ability to an astounded audience. In some ways, he felt like one of those Muggle magicians who went to birthday parties or whatever. Yet, the magic he was practicing was most definitely real. He had to smirk to himself inwardly. What would the Ministry of Magic think, if they knew what he was doing at that very moment? Centuries-old laws being callously broken many times over? So what? This wasn't home.

"A most astounding performance," said Sandra, as Harry conjured up another tea service. By his estimate, it was already mid-morning.

"There are some kinds of magic I can't demonstrate here, such as potions."

"We have that sort of magic as well, although likely with a great number of differences," Sandra noted.

"What about magical creatures, like Werewolves?" questioned Harry. that got an arched eyebrow from Sandra. "Guess not. Vampires?" Another shake of the head. "Phoenixes? Kneazles? Hippogriffs? Unicorns?"

"Unicorns?" questioned King Simon.

"As beautiful as you can imagine them, sir," answered Harry, "I've only seen one up close once, most unfortunate someone had already slain it."

"We may not have them here… but it sounds pretty dark, to murder something that beautiful," said Lucas.

"It is. But the dark wizard who did it… needed its blood. And you're right, it is truly a horrible crime, to kill a unicorn." Harry thought for a moment, sipping on his tea, then said, "Of course, with those lighter creatures I mentioned, we also have some pretty terrifying creatures. Hear of a basilisk?"

"The king of snakes," said one of the guardians, "Although it's only legend as I understand it."

"In my world, they are very real. I fought one in my second year of school," said Harry, then, "How about Acromantulas?"

"A what?" questioned yet another.

"Giant spider." Several people winced or shivered at the mention, causing Harry to smirk, but he then added, "Don't worry about it, my best friend's terrified of spiders."

"Dementors," said Matt, darkly, adding his two-pence, "More than scared the piss out of me."

"The darkest of creatures," said Harry, "And he's not exaggerating. They feed on the positive emotions and memories of a person… given the chance, they can suck out a person's soul, leaving nothing but a live, but empty shell behind."

"Why would you have such creatures?" questioned Sandra, "Why not exterminate them?"

"That's just it though, there's no way to permanently banish a Dementor. We have but one weapon that has any effect on it, the Patronus charm, which I showed you all earlier."

"Sorry for the delay," spoke the Guardian sent away earlier, "But locating this became somewhat of a production." He brought with him a box about twice the size of a shoe box.

"Harry… be careful," said Matt, uneasily, as the box was set in front of them. Harry only nodded, gesturing carefully at it with a hand, lifting the lid from it. Exactly as he had seen in the vision, a device which somewhat resembled a Muggle typewriter rested within it. Another gesture from his hand, and the device was lifted out of it, and set on the table.

"What is it?"

"Haven't a clue," said Harry, leaning in close to examine the keys. The symbols weren't ancient runes, as he originally thought. It was some language he had never seen before.

"Mr. Potter. It's likely you were meant to have this," said Sandra.

"Why we're here, Harry," said Matt.

"Yeah… I guess." Harry levitated the item back into its box, closed the lid, shrunk it down to the size of a matchbook, and slid it into his pocket.

Further conversation was momentarily interrupted as Lucas' mobile rang. He answered it, and the conversation was brief. He put the phone away, saying, "Meghan has invited us for lunch." He glanced at his watch. It was nearing eleven in the morning.

"Perhaps we should break for lunch, then," Sandra suggested, "We could continue this later."

"I would like that," said Harry, then, "Lucas… if you can show me where you live… we could just apparate there."

"Um…"

"Just like how we did it on board the Destiny Star. Once we're finished with lunch, we can just return here—if it is all right with madam Telwain."

"No, teleporting directly into the chamber is forbidden, Mr. Potter," answered Sandra.

"Right, should have known the answer to that question."

"Closest you'd be permitted would be the upper part of the atrium."

"It's close enough," said Lucas, "I would have to call down to the chamber here."

"Mr. O'Callaghan, we can just grant you temporary card access to the chamber. If I might see your access card for a moment," said another guardian. Lucas did so, and the guardian inserted it into a reader at his workstation. It only took a moment, and the card was handed back. "The access will automatically revoke itself next time it is used here."

"If we can't apparate into the chamber, I assume we can't apparate out of it either, then," said Harry. Sandra only shook her head. Harry nodded, picking up a pencil off the table. "Lucas… may I see where you live?"

"Right. Go ahead," said Lucas, as their eyes met. It took only a moment.

"Got it." Harry pressed a finger to the pencil. "Portus. Those coming, put a finger on it, it activates in fifteen seconds."

"What does it do?" questioned Lucas.

"Just get a finger on it unless you want to be left behind!" said Harry. Lucas quickly did so, as did Matt, and less than ten seconds later, there was another familiar hook about the naval, as the three of them vanished from the chamber.

Lucas had certainly used a similar mode of transportation, but this was by no means gentle, like their teleport hubs. The wind was whipping about him, and they spun crazily—then—they struck the ground rather uncomfortably.

Lucas scrambled to his feet, and dusted himself off, amazed to find himself standing on the front lawn of his house. Harry had impressed the red head yet again.

"Lucas?!" Harry looked to the front porch, as they regained their feet, and instantly recognized the woman from the picture in Lucas' quarters aboard the Destiny Star. He had to admit, she was pretty, even if he didn't play that way. Lucas swiftly met his wife, pulling her into a momentary, but tight embrace.

"Harry, Matt. Come meet my wife. Meghan, this is Matt, and Harry. Guys, my wife, Meghan."

"An honour," said Harry.

"And I second that," said Matt.

"Oh good grief, you weren't kidding," said Meghan, taking in Matt's appearance.

"Since when have I told a fib, dear?" That got a scowl from Meghan, as they were led inside the house.

Inside, they were virtually assaulted by another flurry of red hair, and Harry quickly realized this was Seamus, as Lucas scooped the small boy up in his arms. The boy looked to be about 6 or 7, a little older than the picture he saw the day before. "How's my boy doing?"

"Father! You're home!"

"What, didn't your mother tell you I was coming?" questioned Lucas, setting the boy down so they could face each other.

"He's been nothing but a whirlwind all morning," Meghan sighed, sounding a little weary.

"Seamus, I'd like you to meet some new friends of mine. This is Harry, and Matt," Lucas introduced, "Guys, this is Seamus." Seamus readily shook Harry's hand, but blinked at Matt for a moment before shaking his. He said, "You look like the man in some of father's posters!"

"That's because he is," answered Lucas, then added, "And you can't be bugging the snot out of him."

"But father…"

"Seamus…"

"So how long are you home, dear?" asked his wife.

"Only for a couple of days, then I need to be back to the Destiny Star. We had a most unfortunate incident on board that could have sunk the boat, had it not been for these two," answered Lucas.

"Indeed? I should thank you both, then. Do come into the dining room, lunch is just about ready."

"Mrs. O'Callaghan… I still can't believe we're on the bottom of the ocean," said Harry, shaking his head. Lunch was long over, and the four of them still sat around the table, while Seamus happily played with his model cars and other toys in a corner.

"It is a marvel, isn't it?" said Meghan, "My parents were equally shocked when they saw it for the first time. Myself, I've been born here, as was Lucas."

"Although I was actually born in another city. But we met here, not long after finishing school."

"Yes, ever the charmer this one," Meghan laughed.

"You both remind me somewhat of my best friend's family," said Harry, "They're all red heads, too."

"What's it like to live and work here, though?" Matt threw in.

"Just like any other large, modern city," answered Meghan, "We certainly have our issues here, as much as any other place, but… my parents were never happy living in Belfast, or so they've told me. Most certainly the kind of nonsense happening there does not happen here."

"No, the government would never allow it in the first place," Lucas snorted.

"What sort of nonsense?" Harry looked confused.

"You don't know?" Even Matt appeared surprised.

"In a nutshell, Northern Ireland wishes to separate from the U.K. altogether. I won't get into the religious or political rat's nest that goes with it, but England is all but forcing the north to remain a part of the U.K.," Meghan explained, "It's resulted in many deaths, and a country divided. Many of us were more than happy to get away from it. Finding the commonwealth was one of the best things that ever happened to them, so my parents have said many times over."

"But if you're wondering about really big problems, nothing really worth mentioning," Lucas spoke up, drawing the conversation away from the dark topic.

"All want is to be normal," said Harry, with a sigh, "But the universe seems bent on preventing that. It's bad enough I've got one of the worst dark wizards in history after me… I have now landed in two alternate worlds, both significantly different in one way or another. Both places now, I've had to act, both to save myself and those around me." He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out the miniaturized box the Guardians of the Lamp had passed him, and re-enlarged it. "It's like I'm on some cosmic treasure hunt." He again lifted the top off, revealing the device inside.

"It looks somewhat like a typewriter," Meghan noted.

"What I thought too," said Harry, gesturing at it with a finger, "Whatever it is, it's got an incredible magical field about it. Something like a device I have in my room back home—something I found where I go to school."

"They're likely related, Harry," said Matt, "If it's anything like the object you recovered when we first met."

"Sounds like maybe those things are meant to work together," Lucas guessed, "At least that's my logic—from an engineer's perspective."

"Sounds possible," said Harry, with a shrug, still gesturing at the device with a finger. It so happened, that Seamus had sent one of his cars racing across the floor. It struck Harry on the back of the foot, startling him, and inadvertently causing him to press one of the keys on the device.

BANG! There was a brilliant flash of light, and Harry suddenly found the world spinning around him. What had he done?! There was no time to really process what was happening, as the scene abruptly changed to that of a dark room, with visibility virtually nil. Soft scuffing nearby told him at least Matt had made it—the unknown device landed with a noisy clatter to the floor…

"Quién es?" came a voice… and then… another loud BANG… Harry's chest exploded in a fiery hot burst of pain.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: Cookies, to the first one to identify where Harry and co. have landed!! :P_


	25. Fate Interrupted

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter: __zutarakid50, StoryTagger, scotsremusfan, and Thenchick__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_WARNING: Coarse language, violence, and… oh yeah, more Matt/Harry fluff!_

_Chapter posted January 31, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XXIV-  
FATE INTERRUPTED**

**Or, history is changed in yet another dimension**

**

* * *

**"Harry?!" Matt exploded, as the boy-turned-man crumpled from what had obviously been a gunshot to the chest. A flick of the wrist, a sharp wand movement, and "EXPELLIARMUS!" The firearm was ripped from the assailant, and slammed into Matt's outstretched hand.

"Matt?" Somehow, Lucas had been brought along for this rather uncomfortable ride. A boy's cries outside told him so had the guy's son, and likely wife. "Take this… look after your wife." A scuffle behind him momentarily startled Matt. "Get in here and join your friend," he growled, directing his wand at the shadow. Lucas was quickly slinking out the door, while Matt was shaking with both fear and rage. His love had just been shot in the chest, and he had the one responsible at wand point. The other… was he an accomplice?

"Names. Now," Matt demanded.

"…"

"I won't ask again…" he levelled the wand at the individual responsible for Harry's position. Harry was rasping on the floor, his breathing becoming difficult. He needed to do something! Another sharp movement with his wand, "STUPEFY!" The assailant fell limp.

"You saved my life," said the second. This one was clearly the lesser of the two threats. He had no weapons. "Sit. Beside that one. You move, you die. Understand?" Matt hissed.

"I understand."

"Matt… you all right?" questioned Lucas, entering, cradling his son. Meghan was directly behind him.

"I need some light so I can see what I'm doing… I need my wand to heal the damage."

"Lantern, on the table," spoke the stranger.

"Lumos!" Matt commanded, and a light flared from the end of his wand. As the stranger had said, there was a lantern and a few candles on the table. "Nox." He doused the light. Another flick of the wand, and the lantern was lit, with a softly spoken "Incendio."

"What… what are you?" questioned the stranger.

"I don't know anymore," answered Matt, again kneeling beside Harry. The wound was scary, to say the least. Two inches lower, and it would have been all over for the boy-who-lived.

"Matt…" Harry wheezed, "I… I love you…"

"Harry! Jesus Christ you're not gonna die," Matt snapped, levelling his wand at the wound.

"You… you may kill me anyway…" Harry managed.

"I have to try, don't I?"

"Guys… we'll have company in about a minute," Lucas warned, sticking his head in the doorway.

"Pat's friends," said the second stranger, "They'll shoot all of you quick as they will me."

"M-Muggle repelling… charm," Harry sputtered.

"I can't do that one, remember?" said Matt.

"Y-you can, m-mate… t-trust yourself." Harry reached up and put a finger to the horrible wound. "E—Episkey." He wasn't sure if it would actually work, considering the damage. His magic was going haywire inside from it, making it almost impossible to concentrate. Yet, if he didn't at least try, he might very well die, in who knows where, who knows when.

It hurt. There was no doubt about it, it felt as if a screaming hot poker was being shoved into his chest. Yet, it did help to close some of the damage. Matt, meanwhile, mustered the courage, directing his wand at the entrances to the room. "Repello Muggletum."

"What will that do?" questioned Meghan. Lucas and his family had stepped into the room.

"K-keep non-magical folk away," answered Harry, a little more easily, "B-been a while… since I was… shot." Matt looked at him, shocked. "When?"

"Couple years ago. Bloody MI6…" Harry at last attempted to sit up.

"NO! Don't move!" Matt hissed. There was still blood leaking from the now smaller wound.

"I… guess I didn't get it all…" Harry winced, feeling the stabbing pain. The bullet had gone straight through at least. He gestured at himself again, this time feeling a little more organized. Once again, a horrible stabbing pain tore through his chest, as the damage was repaired.

"Who… WHAT are you people?" the stranger at last demanded, the awe and confusion at last giving way to more rational thought.

"We're wizards," answered Harry, at last being able to sit up. In the dim light, he was at last able to make out the man asking the question. He guessed his hair to be sandy to light-brown—the lighting didn't help much, and neither did the tattered hat he wore on his head—a cross between a western hat and a sombrero, as they called it? The guy had a smooth complexion, and ears that stuck out slightly. He couldn't be any older than eighteen or twenty at best. His cloths were rather shabby, and reminded him of some 'American old-west' pictures he had once seen. The guy seemed to nod at the simple explanation.

"I'm Harry, and this is Matt, Lucas, and his wife Meghan, and their boy, Seamus."

"I'm Billy," answered the stranger, "I said before, you saved my life."

"Why was he trying to kill you?" inquired Lucas.

"Same question I want to know," said Matt, darkly, as he knelt beside Harry.

"I'm a wanted man," answered Billy. Just then, the first stranger stirred.

"Not a strong enough stunner, Matt," said Harry, gesturing with a finger, binding the first stranger in thick ropes. "He won't be going anywhere now."

"Attempted murder on a wizard… heard Draco mention it a while back," said Matt.

"Yeah… that would go over real well… that would get him a one-way trip to Azkaban."

"So who is your 'friend' here?"

"Pat Garrett," said Billy. Lucas choked. "Say again?"

"You know who I am, then," answered Billy.

"Billy the Kid."

"Sorry… I don't follow," said Harry, at last getting to his knees.

"B-born as Henry McCarty," Lucas stated, "Bloody hell this is impossible." Everyone noted Lucas had shuffled Seamus behind him, almost in a protective stance.

"What date is it here?" questioned Harry.

"July 14," answered Billy.

"No, the year."

"1881."

SMASH! Every window in the room exploded outward. The items on the table went flying, while the air seemed to crackle dangerously with pent up, wild energy. Even Matt was caught off guard by the awesome, terrifying display.

Outside, in the square, more than a few individuals still out and about at the late—or early hour had seen, but many more certainly FELT the powerful outburst.

"Es el trabajo del Diablo!!(1)" shrieked one citizen, as they fled from the supposed source of the disturbance, the residence of Pedro Maxwell, the son of deceased land baron Lucien Maxwell. This of course drew the attention of Garrett's deputies, also working about the village. Whatever happened, the sheriff was in trouble.

"Harry, please, mate, calm down, 'fore you hurt someone!" Matt pleaded, gripping Harry's left shoulder. That interaction seemed to help calm the enraged wizard, and the dangerous flare of magical energy began to dissipate. However, it didn't stop Harry from snatching the strange device in his hand, and hurling it at the wall. It slammed into it with a thud, and crashed to the floor.

"Of course it's unbreakable…" Harry muttered, "So help me, if I can train my wand on whoever's responsible… they will wish for death."

"Not bloody likely, Harry. Remember what Madam Telwain said…" Lucas began.

"I don't give a flying FUCK what she said!" Harry roared, getting a sour look from Meghan. "Mr. Potter, please do not curse around my son."

"S-sorry."

"How… how did you just land here as you did?" Billy questioned, at last getting the courage to stand. Lucas levelled the pistol toward him.

"I don't think Mr. McCarty's a threat here," said Harry.

"That's your opinion," said Lucas.

"Sheriff?" called a voice from outside.

"Shit! It's Garrett's deputies!" Billy hissed.

"We need to get out of here, then. Suggestions?" Harry looked at Billy.

"I know a few places if you can get us out of here."

"Sheriff!?" the voice called again.

"Look into my eyes, then," said Harry. Sharp blue eyes met emerald green for only a moment, and Harry nodded. He snatched a broken clay bowl that had fell to the floor, placed a finger on it, speaking, "Portus."

"Oh God, not that again," Lucas muttered, while Harry summoned the artefact to him. 'No sense leaving it behind,' he thought, then said, "Either that, or we get carted off to jail. Everyone get a finger on it, it goes in ten seconds." Billy stared at it questioningly. "Unless you want to face the law." Billy quickly stuck a finger on the plate. They vanished, just as several sheriff's deputies barged into the room.

The group landed awkwardly in the shadow of a ruined fort. The sky was just starting to turn light in the east… 'Didn't we just do this a few hours ago?' Harry thought, frustrated.

"Where are we?" Matt questioned.

"About fifty miles from Fort Sumner," answered the outlaw, "It'll take 'em a while to catch up."

"What happened? How did we… teleport in the first place?" questioned Meghan, sounding frustrated, as she tried to comfort her son.

"Same question," Billy added.

"This… thing… I didn't mean to touch it… I'm cursed with bad luck as of late," answered Harry, gesturing with a finger, and conjuring a box. The original had been left behind at Lucas' house. Billy only stared.

"Conjuration," answered Harry, noting Billy's gaze. The artefact was levitated back into the box, the lid closed, and it shrunk. "I'll do well to never touch it again. Bloody hell."

"Harry… what about calling Fawkes?" Matt suggested. That made Harry grin madly. "Matt, that's brilliant!" He paused, thinking clearly, then spoke, "Fawkes? Can you hear me?"

Unfortunately, the seconds ticked by, with no response. As the seconds became a minute, Harry's shoulders slumped. "He can't hear us here."

"What about Dobby or Kreacher?" Matt suggested. Harry nodded, saying, "Kreacher will probably hear me, given he's partly bound to me. Kreacher?"

Once again, the seconds ticked by, almost painfully for Harry. This time, however, about five seconds after the call, there was a noisy CRACK, and Kreacher appeared in front of Harry. To Billy, it was perhaps the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. Had he been armed, he would have likely shot it.

"Master Harry! What is master Harry doing here? He is just finishing a bath, Dobby says," the elf croaked, while Billy continued to stare.

"Kreacher… how long have I been gone?"

"Master Harry is not gone long, only a few minutes."

"That's impossible," Matt snorted, "We've been gone for nearly ten days!"

"No, it's possible," answered Harry, shaking his head, "Remember when we first met."

"Pardon me, but none of this is makin' any sense," Billy interjected.

"It will eventually. Kreacher, can you get us back to the trunk, one at a time?" Harry questioned. The elf looked at Harry, then held out a hand. Harry took it, but the elf suddenly looked confused.

"Kreacher is confused."

"Okay. Don't worry about it."

"What about bringing us back a trunk?" Matt suggested. The elf didn't wait, but vanished again with a noisy CRACK.

"How's a trunk supposed to help us?" questioned Lucas, darkly, as he paced what had obviously been used as a camp site. The sky continued to lighten, as dawn approached.

"Lucas… you shared your world with me… now I get to return the favour, at least partially. In the mean time." Harry gestured with a hand in a wide circle about the site.

"What's he doing?" questioned Billy.

"Warding the site. Magic can't stop bullets, but it can keep our enemies away," Harry answered.

"The Dark Lord included," said Matt.

"Yeah, got that covered too, not that he'll be a threat here at this point."

"Could be other dark wizards, Harry," said Matt.

"He's learning," Harry half-grinned. Just then, Kreacher returned with another noisy CRACK, bringing with him what looked like a large steamer trunk, almost as big as he was.

"Well done, Kreacher. The others have been warned?"

"Kreacher is warning master Sirius before leaving."

"Perfect." Harry gestured at the trunk, moving it against a ruined wall, speaking, "Addendum, Lucas O'Callaghan, Meghan O'Callaghan, Seamus O'Callaghan, and Henry McCarty." The trunk glowed green four times indicating each addition.

"Security," Lucas guessed, to which Harry nodded, "Powerful wards. All right, everyone, link arms. Matt, my left, Lucas, my right."

It was an awkward stance, as everyone linked arms in some way, while Meghan held Seamus close. Once Harry was sure everyone was linked to him in some way, he gave a half-twist, and the group vanished with a noisy POP—the more people involved, the noisier the apparition.

No matter, the group landed in the trunk's common room, which luckily for Harry, was at that point empty.

"Everyone okay?" questioned Harry. Billy looked rather green, but otherwise looked no worse the wear. Lucas and Meghan took it with no difficulty, but Seamus seemed to teeter for a moment, before vomiting on the floor.

"Dobby?" Harry spoke. Dobby appeared with a slight pop. "Harry call for Dobby and he comes!"

"Yes, great. I need a stomach calming draught from my stores, please." The elf popped away. Just then, a voice said, "Harry! We were worried, dear!" Lily had popped into her portrait above the fireplace.

"Mum… we're not exactly back," answered Harry, sounding frustrated, plopping down onto a couch. Billy, meanwhile, was doing a very good impression of a goldfish, staring at the talking portrait. Lucas was not far off, he too appearing rather shocked at the concept.

"Where are we now?" questioned Lily.

"I don't know… we've travelled into two dimensions… the second being sometime in the eighteen-hundreds, in the American west…"

"N-new Mexico, ma'am," said Billy, at last finding his voice.

"And who might you be?"

"Billy."

"And I'm Lucas, and this is my wife Meghan, and our son, Seamus." Just then, there was another POP, as Dobby returned, bringing a stomach calming draught.

"This should help settle Seamus' stomach," said Harry, "Some potions don't work on Muggles, but I know this one will."

"Thank you."

"Mum, how long have we been gone?"

"Only a few minutes, dear. Moody went through the floo to alert Albus."

"He might have trouble getting back," said Harry.

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore," said Matt, with a smirk.

"It's not funny!" Harry huffed, "Bloody hell this has been enough stress to last a lifetime! Oh wait, I've had to RELIVE my life!" Matt reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, wanting to avoid a repeat of what happened less than a half-hour earlier.

"Oh, Harry dear, we were worried!" Molly exclaimed, seeing Harry as she stepped into the common room.

"Mrs. Weasley. I'm okay," said Harry, standing, "Just been on a bit of an adventure. Is Bill aware of what happened?"

"We'd just sent off an urgent note with Hedwig," said Lily.

"They won't be able to contact us, we're still stuck in whatever dimension this is… I needed some help."

"What sort of help?"

"Partly, to hide. Number two, I now have four people who are… somewhat displaced because of me… not that that's anything new," Harry snorted.

"Harry, dear, we don't blame you for what happened on your birthday, don't you ever think that," Molly scolded.

"It's… hard not to," said Harry, at last getting to his feet. "I have to go back outside for a moment, left that thing we recovered out there." He popped away.

"How does he do that?" questioned Billy.

"It's called apparition," explained Matt, "Right useful, and something I can't do just yet."

"But you will learn eventually," Lily reminded, "You're learning so fast as it is." Just then, Harry reappeared with a light POP, bringing with him the box containing the artefact given him in Diconcenturia.

"What exactly is that?" Billy pointed to the box.

"I don't know, and if I could, I'd smash it into a million pieces," Harry growled, "That's why we ended up in the middle of your gunfight."

"Inadvertently changing history along the way," said Lucas, with a snort.

"In what way?" questioned Lily.

"HE was supposed to die," said Lucas, pointing a finger at Billy, "That's Billy the Kid." Both Molly and Lily were unfazed at this revelation.

"Lucas. You forget, these people don't read Muggle history," Matt pointed out.

"Muggle?" Billy questioned.

"It's what you are," answered Matt, "Non-magical people."

"Matt?" Owen now stood just inside the archway separating the corridor and the common room.

"I'm okay," Matt answered.

"So are you joining us later on or not?"

"Owen… we've got a slight situation at the moment," said Harry. Lucas, meanwhile, was staring wide-eyed at Owen.

"Lucas!" Meghan hissed, trying to fend off the inevitable fan-boy moment.

"Lucas… I'll introduce you to everyone later," Matt placated him.

"That would be wicked."

"Owen… we're gonna need to borrow the spare room in the studio, actually. Lucas and his family need somewhere to stay."

"And since the bed's now free in my room… Billy can use that one," Harry decided, "If you don't mind sharing. I can probably set up a privacy wall and so on if you'd like."

"Fine with me."

"Harry." Harry turned to find Sirius standing at the door leading to the corridor.

"Sirius," Harry breathed, feeling his spirits lift at seeing his godfather. Harry crossed the room, and the two of them quickly embraced.

"You act as if you've not seen me in a week."

"Because it's true and then some," said Harry, then, "Where is everyone?"

"Gathered in the study," answered Sirius, "Moody left just a minute ago to warn Albus. And Harry, we really need to work out some better accommodation arrangements."

"I know that! It doesn't help that the cosmos hates me! Look, give me a minute… a change of clothes and a shower is the first thing on my plate right now. I'll face everyone after."

"Ditto," said Matt.

"I'll pass on the message. A half hour maybe?"

"Yeah, that'll be all right," Harry agreed, then to Matt, "Coming?"

Billy watched the two wizards step into the corridor. It had been most certainly eventful, he had to admit. If not for them, he would be dead, that much was a certainty. Yet, what did he do now? He flopped down onto one of the couches, lost in thought.

Sure, he could just say "Thank you" and be on his way. That might be rather difficult in some ways, on the other hand. He was now fifty miles out in the middle of nowhere, with no horse, no supplies of any kind. It would be hell on foot, that was for sure. 'Then again, maybe they would be kind and return me to Fort Sumner,' he thought. Or maybe not. Garrett and his men would likely be waiting for him.

No, this latest, nearly deadly encounter with a former acquaintance was a very loud cosmic wake-up call. His life in New Mexico—or likely the United States as a whole, was over. 'Wherever these wizards are going will probably be safer than remaining here', he decided.

"Mr. and Mrs. O'Callaghan," said the man named Owen, drawing Billy out of his thoughts, "Come with me, I'll show you the spare room, and introduce you to the rest of the guys."

"Thanks, mate," said Lucas, grinning madly. That got a frown from his wife.

"Billy, is it?" questioned Molly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You may be more comfortable waiting for Harry in his room. They'll likely be some time in the bathroom as it is. Follow me."

"They just went into the bathroom," said Lily, and she vanished from the portrait.

"How is it they can do that?"

"it's a magical portrait," answered Molly, as they crossed the room, "However, the story of how she came to be in one, is Harry's story to tell. I'm sure you do understand, our world is quite different than what you come to know and expect." Billy only nodded at that, as they travelled down the corridor. He saw Owen lead Lucas and his family into a room, and they stopped at the next door, which was wide open.

"I ask you not touch anything, there are things in here which may be dangerous," Molly warned, as she led the young man into the room.

"I understand."

"That would be the spare bed. Can I get you anything? A cup of tea, coffee?"

"No ma'am. If anything, rest might be good right now."

"Then I leave you to it. Should you need anything, just come across the hall. Harry and Mr. Tyson shouldn't be long, though." With that, Molly left the room.

Billy sat on the edge of the bed he had been assigned, once again returning to his previous thoughts. This world certainly WAS very different. Being able to create things out of thin air? Moving and talking pictures? Strange creatures? Hell, what both Matt and Harry had done to Garrett was incredible in its own right—never mind Harry being able to survive a gunshot to the chest… that should have been fatal!

Whatever the reason, they had saved his life. That's what it came down to. Then and there, he made up his mind. His place was no longer in New Mexico, on the run from the law. These people had no clue who he was; Their opinions had not been tainted by a vicious press, the corrupt state government, or the likes of John Chisum. Looking at his life, Billy had nothing but the business end of a gun and a pine box waiting for him, when it all boiled down to it. He stretched out on the bed, and dropped his hat over his face. Some rest would do him well, all considering.

"Harry, what if we were to just get Kreacher or Dobby to collect the trunk, return to your world?" Matt suggested. The two of them were once again in the tub, relaxing at either end—it was certainly big enough, after all.

"No. Not yet. I think Mr. McCarty might like to at least collect the few possessions he has. We'll need to ask him what he wants to do."

"You're not thinking of inviting him to stay?"

"Well, it's either that, or we obliviate him."

"Remember what Lucas said, and the reaction he had toward the guy. If he's dangerous…"

"That's another reason why we'll need to sit down and have a lengthy chat. Matt… there's always two sides to a story, right?"

"Fair enough. Holy fuck you could have died this morning."

"But I didn't right? And you need to stop doubting your ability, you catch on quickly. Even Hermione notices that. And I should also say well done, you've had your baptism of fire, Matt."

"Harry! It's not fucking funny!" Matt hissed.

"I didn't say it was, just… you did well, protecting all of us. I'm glad to have you at my back, as much I would have Ron, Hermione, Cedric, or Bill." That comment had Matt blushing.

Stepping back out into the bedroom, both were surprised to find Billy stretched out on the spare bed, fast asleep.

"A good idea," Harry whispered, dragging Matt over to their bed.

"What about the others?"

"I'll send my clone." He scrunched up his eyes for a moment, as after all, it had been over a week since he last did it, and spoke, "Expecto Duplus Corpus." An identical copy of himself appeared directly in front.

"Take care of things, we need a bit of sleep." The clone gave Harry a half-salute, then left the room.

"Let's get some rest."

The clone, meanwhile, stepped into the studio. The rest of "Fate Thrice Defied" were gathered in the lounge area, with Lucas.

"Lucas… you guys are settled?"

"Yeah, thanks to Owen."

"Great. I'm sorry you got pulled into this, I didn't plan on… whatever this is. Last thing I wanted is for you or your family hurt."

"Harry… do not beat yourself up, it was clearly an accident. It could have been much worse, you know that."

"The thing is… I don't know how long it will be before I can get you home, if ever. These jumps through time and dimensions… I don't have any control over it. Merlin, you already know what we were doing when we 'jumped' into your world."

"This is true."

"What I'm trying to say, is that… whatever you need, I will help you out. And I know Mrs. Weasley will be more than happy to help you guys out with Seamus." He thought for a moment, then called, "Dobby, Kreacher?" With two distinct POPs, the elves in question appeared.

"Master Harry call for Kreacher?"

"Harry call for Dobby and Dobby comes!"

"Great, guys. I just needed to introduce you to Lucas. If he calls on you, please look after whatever he might need, okay?"

"Of course, master Harry," said Kreacher, while Dobby only nodded enthusiastically.

"Can Meghan summon them as well?" questioned Lucas.

"You'll have to introduce them, but I'll leave that up to you," said Harry, then to both elves, "Thanks guys, Kreacher, you can go back to whatever you were doing." Kreacher popped away.

"Just keep in mind, they do look after a good portion of the cooking, and all the cleaning here."

"How many of those do you have?"

"Three. Dobby and Kreacher, who you just met, and Winky. She's a little more timid, and spends most of her time in and about the kitchen." Harry then looked at Dobby. "I need you to fetch a fourth trunk. My coin bag should be in the room on my dresser."

"Dobby is fetching right away!" He vanished.

"So we're in another dimension?" questioned Patrick. Harry nodded, saying, "I don't plan on being here long. I still have a couple of things to sort out, but really… this… WAY too much dragon shit."

It almost became a circus, when Harry stepped into the study. The large conference table was almost crammed with people, all wanting to know what had happened, and whether he was all right. Some people were absent, and Harry had a pretty good idea of why, each of them a different reason.

Either way, it did result in a lengthy explanation, including several visits into the pensieve, as Harry brought everyone up to date on exactly what had happened to him.

"Where is the object you collected now," Remus inquired, as Harry finished his explanation.

"In my bedroom, put away with the other one. I'll not make the same mistake twice. But I'll need Bill's help sooner rather than later, to put protective wards on it, like he did the first one."

"Smart thinking," Sirius agreed.

"We do need to consider alternate accommodations," said Remus, "I don't believe you ever intended this many people to share your trunk with you, Harry."

"No, definitely not. I don't mind helping out, but I never foresaw this sort of thing. Right now, though, not exactly my top priority. Right now, I just need to make sure there's space for everyone." Just then, Dobby reappeared with a slight POP, looking uncomfortable.

"Dobby?"

"Dobby is looking at place where Harry Potter bought his trunks, but place is deserted, the wizard gone, he is!"

"Shit. All right, thanks for looking anyway. We'll get it sorted later."

"Harry," said Hermione, finally, "You really have Billy the Kid here in the trunk?"

"He's asleep right now," answered Harry, then added with a smirk, "Of course you'd know who he is, I guess." That got a glare from the bushy-haired witch. "Harry, he was a dangerous outlaw in the American west."

"Like I said to Matt earlier, there's two sides to every story. A few drops of Veritaserum will clear everything up quite nicely, I should think," said Harry. Hermione only nodded at that… it made perfect sense.

"And if he is a danger?" queried Remus.

"I'll erase his memory of ever meeting us, and put him back where we met. Whatever fate had in store for Mr. McCarty, then so be it. Of course that will also depend on what HE wants to do."

"Harry, there's already too many people here," Hermione pointed out, "Mr. O'Callaghan and his family are bad enough."

"If Mr. McCarty wants our help, I'm not about to ignore that."

"His 'saving people' mentality," James smirked, from the portrait over the fireplace.

"And it is Harry's decision in the end," said Sirius, "Who are we to tell him how to run his own home?"

"An equally worrisome point, Harry, is Kreacher's inability to bring you back to our world, where you belong," Remus brought up.

"Maybe he hasn't completed the task assigned to him here," answered Luna, speaking for the first time.

"Oh now THAT's a load of dragon shit," Harry huffed, "I've already got one assignment heaped on my head, I don't need another!" He blew out a breath, then said, "No matter what, I'll have Kreacher bring this trunk back to our world. Maybe see if I can keep the third or fourth trunk here, test out how well Fred and George's doors work."

"I will be very impressed should that actually work, Harry," said Remus.

"No time like the present."

"Your clone should do that."

"Remus…" Harry smirked. That had more than a few people, mouthing, 'O'.

stepping into the entry hall, Harry picked the third up the third trunk, and disapparated, to reappear back outside, just a few feet away from what he called the main trunk, which still rested aginst the ruined building. The sun was high in the sky by this point, and so he got a better look at the surroundings. Dry, was the best way to put it. Not exactly a desert, but it seemed to Harry, everything lacked colour.

Focusing back on what he was doing, he set the third trunk down a little ways from the first, then pulled the lid open. It had been good thinking to make either end of the trunks standard. One end was the lid entrance, with a door leading to the previous trunk; the other end was a door which would match up to the entry hall of the next. It was a daisy-chain design of sorts, all thanks to the twins. Harry quickly passed through the corridor, and reached the door leading into trunk number two. 'Great, that still works,' he thought. He went back outside. Now… "Kreacher?"

"Master Harry call for Kreacher?" the elf questioned, after popping in front of him.

"I need you to take the trunk back to Hogwarts. Can you do that?"

"Right away, master Harry." The elf simply grabbed the trunk, and vanished. Now, for the real test. He climbed back into the third trunk, which still rested against the ruined building, and again travelled the corridor, hoping and praying to everything holy this would work. He reached the door, pulled on the handle… and was relieved when it opened, revealing the connection to the second trunk.

He double-checked, making sure he could make it straight through, then apparated back outside once again. even though there were Muggle-repelling wards around the site, he still applied a disillusionment charm on the trunk itself. After all, 'out of sight, out of mind' was a very good piece of advice.

Now, the question was, with a 'tunnel' to his own world established, could he apparate back into the common room? He gave a slight twist, but went nowhere. 'Guess not,' he thought, then apparated into the third trunk. It would be a longer trip, but at least they were in some way tethered.

Stepping back into the main trunk, he was assaulted by a mass of red hair.

"Harry! Thank Gods!" Bill exclaimed, snaring Harry in a crushing hug.

"I'm fine, I promise!" Harry replied, as they separated. The separation was brief, as Bill locked lips with Harry.

"As charming as this is, there are more pressing issues." They broke for air, realizing there were others in the room. Snape was sneering at the pair, while Dumbledore was standing beside him, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"I understand you've been off on another adventure, Harry," said the headmaster.

"Somewhat, sir, and it's not exactly over. My 'parent' is taking a bit of a rest with Matt, we've had a long night so far," Harry explained.

"You haven't been injured or the like?" questioned Dumbledore.

"Yes, but I was able to fix it, with a bit of help from Matt."

"He's grown more than fond of you," said Bill, to which Harry nodded. "Had you stayed around this morning—err—a week ago to me, now, you could've had some fun."

"Did NOT need to know that, Potter," spoke Moody, who stood off by the door into the dining room.

"Let's take this into the study, where the others are. Hate having to explain a second time, but it's only fair…"

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: As to Matt's magical ability, he's likely got a good number of first year spells and charms down, as well as a few second year charms. Harry would have made sure Matt knew how to at least cast the disarming hex, and the stunning hex._

_As far as this latest incursion goes, we won't be here long. One, maybe two more chapters to go… then, we will likely move into Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts._

_(1) Translates to "It's the work of the devil!". Translated through Babelfish. Incorrect? Know a better translation? Let me know!  
_


	26. Caught Unawares

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ zutarakid50, kehlencrow, Exodiano, Thenchick, and Ninianna Simms__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_WARNING: Coarse language__, violence, death._

_Chapter posted February 12, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XXV-  
CAUGHT UNAWARES**

**Or, Harry's clone puts another love in danger**

**

* * *

**A soft sneeze stirred Harry awake. It took him a fraction of a second to remember who it was, and he wiggled his way out of Matt's grasp—the guy was VERY protective as of late. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gesturing at himself with a hand, instantly dressing in fresh clothes. It was actually nice to be dressed in his own, non-transfigured clothes for the first time in a week. He stood up, erecting a silencing charm over the bed, so as not to wake Matt. "Mr. McCarty?"

"It's Billy." The young man had sat up, rubbing his eyes, quickly taking in his surroundings. He reached for his waist. "Shit."

"You're missing a few personal items," Harry understood at once. Billy nodded. "We can probably get those for you, but first. I have to ask you some questions—my mate over there, and a new friend are both…"

"Uncomfortable around me," Billy finished. Harry nodded, asking, "Lucas seems to know about you. Me on the other hand… I lived in the Muggle world, but wasn't taught history of any kind, so I'm completely in the dark. I somehow doubt you're truly a danger, but I still have to ask."

"Fair enough." Just then, the door opened, and the clone stepped into the room. Billy was held speechless for a moment, head swivelling between one 'Harry' and the other.

"Figured you were up," said the clone, "Shall we merge?"

"Let's." The clone vanished, and Harry was instantly flooded with several hours of memories.

"What the hell?" Billy looked VERY confused.

"Give me a second," said Harry, and he took a few moments to sort them out, rubbing his head from the ache the merge caused.

'Veritaserum? Good idea,' Harry thought, then said, "Give me a minute, okay? I need to fetch a friend." He stepped out of the room. He returned only a few seconds later with a young lady in tow… probably fifteen or sixteen, Billy guessed.

"Billy… this is one of my best friends, Hermione. Hermione, Billy."

"Pleasure," said Hermione, attempting to be nice. She did have reservations, but yet… the young man seated on the spare bed most certainly did not appear anything like the notorious killer she'd read a number of articles about.

"What… how come there were two of you?" Billy questioned.

"It's called a doppelganger charm. I can make a copy of myself. Right useful in many places," said Harry.

"And it can do anything you can?"

"Yes, as if I had an identical twin. There are some times where I can't be somewhere… or something that might be dangerous to me. My 'clone' can go in my place."

"And no one would know the difference," said Billy.

"Exactly. Well… there are a few people that would figure it out. But for most, yes, the clone is me in every way."

"Incredible," said Billy, shaking his head.

"You know, it WOULD have been nice for you to wake me, Harry," said Matt. Harry only grinned, removing the silencing charm around the bed, as Matt joined them.

"Hermione. In my potions cabinet, there's a vial of Veritaserum. You mind fetching it for me?"

"Veri-serum?" questioned Billy.

"It's a powerful truth serum. You understand, I have to be sure whether I can trust you."

"Reasonable."

"Great. That says more than a few things about you already. Turning it down would have been a mistake."

"I have nothing to hide," said Billy, with a shrug, "I don't gain a thing from lying to you, other than to piss you off."

"Here," said Hermione, passing Harry the small vial.

"Right. It's odourless, and tasteless," Harry explained, uncorking the bottle. "Stick out your tongue." Billy did so, and Harry allowed three drops of the clear liquid fall on it.

"Now what?"

"We wait for a few seconds. It'll make you feel quite relaxed," Harry explained. Billy nodded, as he began to feel exactly that… rather loose, calm.

"That should do it," said Harry, "What's your full name?"

"William Henry McCarty."

"How many people have you killed?" Hermione threw in.

"Five." That answer clearly surprised the bushy-haired witch. "Harry, we should clarify exactly who and when," she suggested. Harry nodded, asking, "Who was your first victim?"

"Frank Cahill," answered Billy.(1)

"Why did you kill him?"

"It was in self defence, the man tried to kill me."

"Makes sense," Matt agreed. Hermione was nodding as well.

"Who was the second victim?"

"Sheriff William Brady," answered Billy. That got a raised eyebrow from Harry. "You murdered a sheriff?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

That resulted in a rather lengthy explanation of what he knew as the 'Lincoln County War', and the corrupt politics in the county. Hermione had certainly read a bit about the events, but the inaccuracies in the texts were appalling. No wonder the guy was painted as dark as he was! Billy continued, giving a very personal account of the past few years, leading up to the events of just a few hours prior.

Harry realized the Veritaserum had long since wore off, but he had all the answers he needed. The 'kid' in front of him had been treated just as badly as he had been, perhaps worse.

"Billy. When I leave your world, you'll be coming with us." Harry offered a hand, and they shook.

Just then, there was a loud squeal from next door, which promptly quit.

"I got it," said Matt, walking over to the inside door. He stepped into the studio.

"What was that?" questioned Billy.

"You'll find out soon enough," Harry grinned, then to Hermione, "All your questions answered?"

"Yes, more than adequately, I think. Mr. McCarty—Billy… sorry for the hesitation, but—"

"No it's only fair, you two are close friends?"

"Since we met almost five years ago," answered the witch.

"There are three of us actually, you'll meet Ron shortly. As you'll find out, it's a rather busy place," said Harry.

"Well it is your home, strange as it is. We are truly inside a trunk?"

"I swear it."

"How is that possible?"

"It's magic," answered Harry, with a shrug.

"That always gonna be your answer?"

"Unless you want me to lie about it," Harry smirked. That got a grin in return. "Let's go meet the others."

Stepping into the corridor, they almost ran into Jiro and Zachariah, as they were headed into the study. Jiro studied Billy for a moment, before commenting, "Nice costume."

"What?"

"Did Halloween come early or something?"

"Jiro!" Zachariah hissed, then mouthed an apology to the stranger. That made no difference, as Billy frowned at the jab from this dark-haired stranger.

"You'll do well to shut your mouth, 'fore I shut it for 'ya!"

"Oh really!"

"Jiro…" Zachariah hissed again, while Matt had just stepped into the corridor as well, hearing the raised voices.

"Little punk farm boy, by the looks of you—"

WHACK! Billy's right fist connected with Jiro's jaw, and he went over like a tree, out cold. Matt looked from Jiro's prone form, to Billy, and broke out into snickers. "Serves 'im right, fucking wanker."

"Matt… it's not funny!" Harry huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Harry? --Oh dear…" said Molly, standing at the doorway into the study.

"We've got it in hand, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"My partner's being an ass, as usual. I'll deal with him," said Zachariah.

"Here. I'll at least help you take him downstairs," Hermione offered, gesturing with her wand, and levitating Jiro's unconscious form. Billy, meanwhile, was flexing his rather sore hand.

"Hold it out flat," said Harry.

"What for?"

"Let me fix it." Billy understood at once, and held his hand out flat, as instructed. Harry touched a finger to it, saying, "Episkey." There was a soft POP, as the knuckles healed themselves. Billy winced at the momentary sharp pain… and it was gone. As if the incident had never happened.

"Thank you."

"What friends do," answered Harry, "C'mon, in here."

"Harry… Jiro really needs to go," said Matt.

"We're not having that conversation now. I'll hex his arse later."

"Good. I get a front row seat."

"Matt… it's NOT funny."

"Sure it is. He wants to be a fucking wanker, he deserves every pounding he gets."

"Everything all right, Harry?" questioned Bill, from his place at the table. He faced the door, and had seen part of the confrontation.

"Peachy," Harry muttered, pulling up a seat beside Bill. Only half the people were still present. Matt quickly took the seat directly beside Harry, while Billy accepted a seat beside Matt.

"The professors returned to the school?" Harry at last questioned.

"Just a few minutes ago, actually," answered Remus, "Harry, you should know, Dumbledore is having difficulty finding a Dark Arts Defence professor."

"Why does that not surprise me? I swear it, I'll strangle that Umbridge woman with my bare hands."

"Harry…" said Bill.

"No, Bill, I'm deadly serious. I'll curse her to Hades and back."

"Sorry?" questioned Billy. That got a snicker from Matt, and a grin from Harry. "This is gonna be bloody confusing."

"My name's Bill," spoke the eldest Weasley.

"Right," Billy nodded, leaning back in his seat. He pulled off his hat, running a hand through his hair. 'Definitely confusing,' he thought.

"Mr. McCarty," said Sirius, "Harry explained a small bit about you, but we're still relatively in the dark."

"I said to Harry, I want to come with you folks when you leave."

"You've already had a lengthy discussion, then," Sirius guessed, to which Harry nodded, saying, "I questioned him with Veritaserum. We share something in common."

"What's that?" inquired Billy.

"We both know what it's like to be vilified in the press, to have our names dragged through the mud. You also know what it's like to have the government stacked against you. You know what it's like, when those who are supposed to be the police are instead the criminals."

"So true," Billy agreed.

"My world is exactly like that, or getting to that point. We have a Ministry of Magic so corrupt, justice is only served to the highest bidder. We have a crazed dark wizard working behind the scenes, with the intention of taking over the Wizarding world. The only thing that stands in the way of that coming true, is me."

"But we've been through that discussion before, Harry," said Bill, "You have to know when to abandon the sinking ship."

"Plan for the best, but also for the worst," said Harry, "I said it before, there will be a point I will wash my hands of Wizarding Britain."

"I think you know where I would stand on that kind of issue, Harry," said Sirius.

"And I carry the same opinion," Remus threw in.

"Anyone who's in the trunk here already would be invited to come along, without question," said Harry, firmly, "I will protect those I care about, make no mistake."

"And I'll make sure mum and dad come along," said Bill, "I'll stun them first if I have to."

"Wouldn't have it any other way. As well as your brothers and sister."

"Yes, them as well."

"You've really given this some thought, then," said Remus.

"Absolutely. Guys, really. If we're just gonna have another dark wizard take Voldemort's place five, ten, fifteen years from now, then what's the point? What's the point of trying to carve out a living here, when our world is so poisoned by centuries of bigotry and racism? One of the things I will be doing at school this year, is speak to people who were allies the first time around."

"First time around?" questioned Billy.

"That's something I'll explain to you better later on," answered Harry, then continued, "I'll get a feel for what others think about it, modify the memories of those not interested or opposed to it. I'll particularly target anyone who is Muggle-born, because let's face it, they're the ones persecuted most in our world."

"What's a Muggle-born?" asked Billy.

"I am," answered Hermione, who had just stepped back into the room, "It means a witch or wizard born to Muggle parents."

"Me, I'm a half-blood. Dad was a pure-blood wizard, but mum was a Muggle-born," said Harry.

"And why would that matter?" questioned Billy.

"It's all about status," Sirius explained, "There are a good number who believe pure-blood witches and wizards are superior to half-bloods, Muggle-borns, and non-magical folk. Everyone here knows that's a load of dragon shit, but as I said, it is a deeply ingrained opinion in the hearts and minds of many." Sirius thought for a moment, then said, "Harry, don't forget about applying a secrecy charm on your new friend here, as well as Mr. O'Callaghan and his family."

"Right," said Harry, with a nod.

"Secrecy charm?" questioned Billy.

"So you can't by accident reveal our world to those who shouldn't know about it," answered Sirius, "Matt and his friends have already had that done." Just then, Dobby popped into the room, announcing, "Lunch is being ready, it is!"

After lunch was done with, Harry decided to take Billy back to Fort Sumner to collect the few belongings he owned.

"How do you plan on getting us there?" questioned Matt, "It's not like you could actually see the place earlier."

"I saw enough of it to know where I need to go. And who says you're coming?" Harry answered.

"Even if he's not, I WILL be coming," said Bill, firmly, "Harry, bloody hell, you're in yet another universe. And don't even think of going yourself. Send your clone, we'll go along."

"Matt, I'll actually need you to stay here with me, then. I need to visit Cedric for a few hours anyway." Instantly, Harry's clone appeared, once again making Billy do a double-take. "Matt… let's go."

The clone, Bill, and Billy, meanwhile, travelled to the third trunk. "Right. Both of you take my arms." Both did so, and Harry gave a slight twist. They vanished with a noisy POP.

Reappearing in the room from earlier that morning, Harry knew at once he may have made a grave mistake.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!!" Billy ducked just in time to have the green bolt of magic fly over his head. Instinct told him whatever it was, it probably wasn't healthy. Harry and Bill instantly returned fire, finding themselves in the midst of three wizards. They wore crimson robes, and at first, Harry mistook them for Aurors. Yet, no, these were not Aurors. He was able to make out the decoration on the front of the robe, depicting a partial skull, and a crescent moon. 'Knights of the Red Dawn', Harry remembered.

The fight was ferocious. The dark wizards were more than capable opponents, using lethal spells that were most certainly illegal no matter WHAT country one was in. Billy had been smart enough to make a quick exit from the room seeing an opportunity. It was one less thing for Harry to worry about… these wizards were equally as strong as Voldemort's Death Eaters!

"Harry! Get the hell out of here!" Bill hissed, flinging another purple jet of magic toward one of the attackers.

"Not without you!" Harry ducked yet another killing curse, flinging back one of his own. The gloves were off, as both sides were flinging unforgivables at this point.

"El ministerio de la magia!(2)" came a shout from outside. Bill suddenly felt a hand grip his shoulder, and, too late to react, was apparated away, along with the others, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen.

"¡Ponga sus varitas abajo!(3)" Harry had no clue what the man was saying, but it was likely not good. Quickly laying his wand across his palm, he said, "Point me, Billy."

He found the guy at the other end of the building, doing up a belt around his waist. A holster hung from the right side, and in it was a Muggle firearm. On the bed lay another Muggle firearm, a rifle, if Harry remembered correctly.

"We need to go. Now. The fuckers took Bill," Harry snarled. A crash echoed from another room. "C'mon, now!"

"¡Pare donde usted está!" Two wizards framed the door, both their wands trained on the occupants. Harry was unsure what to do at this point, but Billy's hand was itching toward the weapon in his belt.

"Billy let's go!"

"STUPEFY!" One of the men hissed, and Harry was forced to duck the bolt of magic. In one swift motion, Billy levelled his firearm at the attacker, and fired. The bullet caught the wizard in the upper chest, and he crumpled to the floor, the wand clattering off into a corner. The first wizard rattled off a bunch of incoherent language, staring from his fatally wounded partner to the two opponents in the room.

"Váyase o usted ensambla a su amigo!" Billy hissed, his gun now levelled at the remaining attacker. Harry had also drawn his wand at this point, also levelling it the man.

"What language is it?" Harry questioned.

"Spanish," answered Billy.

"English, speak English," the remaining attacker said, "Ministry of magic! I'm with the ministry of magic!"

"Oh bloody hell, as if this can't get any better."

"You're both under arrest."

"Good luck with that," Harry snorted. It wasn't the first time having to flee the law. Billy snatched up the second firearm, and seemingly already knowing what to do, grabbed Harry's right arm. They vanished with another noisy POP.

* * *

"He certainly is a pretty thing, don't you think?" spoke the first assailant. Bill gave the speaker a look of hate, but the speaker only smirked. "I should think Ivan will have lots of fun with him, no?" The others broke out into maniacal laughter. What happened to Harry? Either dead, or escaped… hopefully the latter. Harry would come for him, he knew that much. 'How foolish! Letting myself be captured!' he snarled in his mind.

The first thing he noticed about the place—what looked like a cave… or possibly a mine—was the heat. It was nearing unbearable. The assailants were likely all wearing cooling charms. The chamber was not all that big all in all, with several tunnels running off in different directions. It was adequately lit, with numerous torches about the room, and now that he got a good look at his surroundings, indeed, it was a mine of some sort. To one side of the chamber, was a set of tracks, on which were several small rail cars, likely used to remove material from the mine.

"Who are you, wizard?" demanded a second one.

"You expect me to tell you who I am? I know the power of a name," answered Bill, coldly.

"Perhaps this might help loosen your tongue, then… Crucio!" the second speaker hissed.

* * *

"I need every available wand, RIGHT NOW!" Harry shouted, bursting into the common room of the trunk, Billy right behind.

"What happened, Harry?" said Ron, who happened to be going from the dining room back to the study.

"Dark wizards… they took your brother!" answered Harry, as they made for the study.

"What?!"

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione had stepped out into the corridor.

"Need Fred and George… and Draco… where's he at?"

"Working with Snape, I think."

"Snape's here? Never mind… Remus, they took Bill!"

"Who? What's going on Harry?" Hermione questioned again.

"Wizards… I think," answered Billy, "They started fighting…"

"They took Bill!" Harry shouted again.

"Harry, you have to calm down, it'll do no good to be all bent out of shape," said Sirius, understanding at once what had happened. Remus was already kneeling in front of the fireplace, also understanding the gravity of the situation.

"What happened?" Harry's 'parent' now stood in the doorway, along with Matt.

"They took Bill… dark wizards ambushed us," answered the clone, unsteadily.

Harry wanted to explode with rage. He wanted to yell, 'How could you be so stupid!?', yet, he realized, he would have likely made the same mistake. They had gone on the assumption it was a Muggle area at the least. Clearly, that assumption had been VERY wrong. "Accio map!" He demanded, thrusting out a hand. Moments later, a large sheet of parchment flew into it. He slammed it down on the table, speaking, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The map quickly began to fill with a map of the trunk, showing the names of every person within it. Once it finished rendering, Harry tapped it once, dragging a finger across it, causing it to suddenly zoom out, drawing what was outside. "Fuck. It won't work in here."

"Try it in the third trunk," suggested the clone.

"We'll do it once we're back outside. Now what happened?" Harry was instantly bombarded by a graphic memory of the past few minutes, courtesy of his clone. Just then, Remus stepped away from the fireplace, and the flames roared green. Billy was astounded, as an ancient man stepped out of the flames, wearing a rather colourful robe. He had almost white hair, and a long, flowing beard that stretched down to his waist.

"Professor," said Harry.

"Remus tells me you've suffered an unfortunate incident."

"Bill's been taken, sir. Professor, it was the Knights of the Red Dawn. I remember seeing pictures of their robes from my first time around… when I was in Vancouver," Harry quickly explained. The ancient wizard only nodded, drawing his wand. Billy was again amazed, as a great, ghostly, silvery bird burst from the end of it, and seemingly vanished moments later. "What was that?" he questioned.

"It's a Patronus charm," answered Harry, "He's sending it out to notify others of what's going on."

"An apt description, Harry," spoke the ancient wizard, as he pulled up a seat at the table, "You are sure it was the Red Dawn?"

"Positive," said the clone, they started cursing us soon as we landed."

"That green curse… what does it do?" questioned Billy.

"Killing curse. Instant death, you were smart to duck it."

"Didn't look friendly."

"Trust me, none of the spells in that room were friendly," Harry snorted, "Fucking hell."

"Harry… at least this time you've got help. What would have happened, had this been in Diconcenturia?" Matt pointed out. Just then, Fred and George stepped into the room, immediately followed by Molly. She looked more than distraught. "Has someone contacted Arthur?" she managed.

"I've summoned him through the floo, Molly," answered Remus. He'd just got the words out of his mouth when the floo fired again, and Arthur stepped out of the flames. He wasted no time going to comfort his wife.

"Molly. We will get him back. We'll do whatever it takes," the ancient wizard promised. Just then, the flames turned green again, and a witch wearing emerald robes stepped out of them. Her hair was up in a tight bun, and she carried a stern demeanour. The ancient wizard quickly met with her, and began to explain the situation.

"Harry… these people… who are they?" questioned Billy.

"That's professor Dumbledore, he's the headmaster at my school… and she's professor McGonagall, she teaches transfiguration."

'O', Billy mouthed, clearly not understanding the magical references. "You go to school to learn magic?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Can I learn it?"

"No," said Hermione, but Harry answered, "Possibly."

"Harry!"

"So what am I?" Matt questioned, jumping into the conversation. Harry welcomed the distraction.

"You're special. But normally, someone has to have magic in them already before they can learn how to use it," Harry explained.

Over the next few minutes, the room began to fill with more members of the Order, as they floo'ed in. The Weasleys had all collected in the sunken part of the room in front of the fireplace—even Ginny had been brought up and informed of the incident. It hurt Harry greatly to see the family so distraught, as it brought back memories from his first time around, and his having to notify them of Bill's death then. He prayed to everything holy that wasn't about to play out for a second time.

"That's just about everyone, I believe," spoke Dumbledore, at last, "Time is wasting, so let us begin." He nodded to Harry.

"First off, we are interacting with another temporal plane, another dimension." He indicated Billy, saying, "This is Henry McCarty… or Billy. We ran into him by accident early this morning, and were involved in another stupid incident I won't get into. It's not important. What is important, is that we did return to the location we were in this morning, to retrieve what few belongings McCarty may have left behind. We inadvertently dropped into the middle of a group of dark wizards, and a fight began… they managed to apparate away with Bill."

"Mr. McCarty," said Dumbledore, "I trust you will behave yourself while around Harry and his friends. I am somewhat aware of your background, some of it rather disconcerting."

"Yes sir."

"I've already had a lengthy discussion with him, sir."

"I see."

"The wizards in question, I believe were Knights of the Red Dawn," said Harry.

"They were a small faction of wizards responsible for numerous attacks against Muggles and several magical communities," Dumbledore explained, seeing the confusion among those at the table, "They were also responsible for a number of similar attacks within what is now British Columbia and Alberta, respectively."

"During my time in Vancouver the first time around, my friends there told me about an attempted attack on Vancouver Island that killed nearly three hundred people in 1842. People back then wrote it off to an earthquake," Harry explained.

"Wizards can cause earthquakes?" Billy arched an eyebrow.

"Unlikely," said Harry, "But that's not what I'm worried about. The point being, these people took Bill."

"Perhaps if you had used a little more caution, Potter, that would not have happened," said Snape, standing near one of the book cases.

"I'm already beating myself over the head enough over it, professor," answered Harry, acidly, "What I need is help to fix it!"

"The best course would be to first find out where they've taken him," offered a witch at the other end of the table. Hestia Jones, if Harry remembered correctly.

"I agree," said Remus, "No sense in sending everyone out on a wild-goose chase. That would put more people in danger, rather than solve the problem at hand."

"Fine. We'll use brooms, it'll take less time than on foot. Billy… you know the area, I'll need you on with me to navigate."

"Broom?"

"Right… we fly on brooms."

"Really?"

"Harry's a good flier," said George. Clearly, though, Billy had his doubts.

"I'm coming too," said Matt.

"NO! You've gone 'round the twist if you think I'll let you come with us!" Harry growled, "I've already lost one boyfriend today, I'm not about to lose another!"

"And you're fucking bent if you think—"

"Stupefy!" said someone behind them, and Matt slumped in his seat.

"Thanks, Fred."

"Anything for an honorary brother."

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So… has Bill 'bought the farm'? *wonders what kind of reaction I would get should I actually 'off' the eldest Weasley*_

_Even the best of us can be caught with our pants down, and it looks like Harry may have really stepped in it this time, eh? Hold on your buts, the confrontation with the Red Dawn will be nothing short of explosive… *smirks*_

_(1) There is conflicting information as to whether McCarty actually killed this man. I go with that information being correct, here. What can I say, it's AU!_

_(2) "Ministry of Magic!"_

_(3) "Put your wands down!" _

_(4) "Stop where you are!"_

_** Babelfish translation, no promises that it's correct. Corrections are most certainly welcome!_


	27. Fire in the Mountain

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ TheUltimateChefofDestruction, Jimbocous, cedric dursley, zutarakid50, StoryTagger, twilight's reflection, and Thenchick__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_CAUTION: Spoilers for GoF, coarse language__, violence, death, gore._

_SUMMARY: __Harry and Billy attempt to rescue Bill from the Red Dawn faction, with explosive results._

_

* * *

  
_

**-CHAPTER XXVI-  
FIRE IN THE MOUNTAIN**

**Or, Harry's rescue of his love has unexpected results**

**

* * *

**Any other time, Harry would have been more than thrilled to be back on his Firebolt. Right now, however, he was all business, as he straddled the broom, having apparated back outside the third trunk first. Against Molly's protests, Fred and George had joined Harry and Billy, swiftly mounting their slower Cleansweeps. Harry had opened up the map again, and tapped it with a finger, speaking, "Magnificare, miniumus!(1)" The map suddenly zoomed out to show a rough lay of the land.

"How much does that cover?" asked Billy.

"About twenty-five miles," answered Harry, as he touched the map again, "Locatus, Bill Weasley." The map seemed to do nothing. "Fuck." He folded the map up, and found it gently pulled out of his hands. "I'll work the map," Fred offered.

"Thanks. Looks like we'll be doing this the hard way," said Harry, picking up his Firebolt. He quickly straddled it, then shifted forward to make room for Billy.

"This really safe?" the outlaw questioned.

"Perfectly safe," answered Fred, "Harry's a good flier."

"It's just like riding a horse… I think," said Harry. Billy hesitated for a moment, then straddled the broom as well, pulling his feet up into the stirrups.

"Ready?"

"Ready," answered Billy. Harry drew his wand, lay it flat on the palm of his hand, and commanded, "Point me, Bill Weasley." The tip spun around to point behind them, slightly to the left.

"Southwest of here," Billy commented, while Harry stowed his wand. "This way guys. And Billy… you might want to hold on your hat." The ground suddenly fell away, and with nothing else to grab onto, Billy wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.

"First flight?" Harry called, as they took off.

"Never been this high before."

"I won't let you fall, trust me," said Harry, as they continued to accelerate. Eventually, George called out, "Too fast, Harry!"

"Sorry." He had forgotten the Cleansweep Five was nowhere near as fast as a Firebolt. This would take much longer than planned. "Back to the trunk."

"What for? Harry…"

"What happens if they've taken him hundreds of miles from here? Guys… no offence, but at fifty miles an hour, it'll take us hours."

"George… he's right."

"I know that… just want our brother back," said George.

"I'll take the trunk with us, shrink it down. Once we get close, I'll pull it out again."

Only minutes later, they were back at the trunk. The twins dismounted their brooms, and retreated back inside, after Fred returned the map to Harry.

"Let the others know what we're doing," said Harry, as he dismounted. Billy sat back a bit, while Harry quickly shrunk the trunk down and slid it into his pocket. A gesture from his hand, "Finite Incantatum."

"What was that for?"

"Cancelling all the charms I put on the site," answered Harry, as he re-mounted the broom. "Okay. Now really, hang on." Billy once again wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, and they lifted off again. This time, they shot forward at an incredible speed, while still gaining height.

"Your broomstick… it's—"

"Wicked, I know," Harry finished, "Sirius gave it to me as a gift a couple of years ago." The ground was hurtling by at a break-neck pace… Billy could barely make things out, they could be better described as blurs.

A half-hour later, they set down by a nearly dry creek bed. The water was barely a trickle, filling a number of shallow pools. Harry took the opportunity to check the map, and see if it could find Bill. He growled in frustration, as the map once again did nothing.

"What will it do if it works?"

"It'll center on him… see, look at this…" Harry spoke, "Magnificare, maximus!(2)" The map instantly zoomed to their current location, showing both their names.

"Wouldn't have worked giving you one of my aliases, then," said Billy.

"Nope. The map sees your aura. So no matter what you might call yourself, it knows who you were christened, if that makes any sense."

"Think so."

"Had I actually been more careful last year in school… I would have found out much sooner one of our teachers was actually a Polyjuiced Death Eater."

"Poly juice?"

"Sorry… an evil wizard wearing a disguise."

"How good a disguise?"

"Polyjuice is a type of potion," Harry explained, "Let's say I had a few of your hairs and added it to the potion… then drank it… I would look exactly like you. The only thing it won't change is my voice."

"Useful."

"It can be. The Death Eater fooled Dumbledore for an entire school year before he was caught."

"What for?"

"What was he doing there? Trying to catch me out of bounds. The thing is, before he could truly spring his trap, I already knew what he was up to. I guess now's as good a time as any to tell you a bit more about me… especially if you plan on sticking around."

"Best to get moving though," Billy suggested, kneeling down at the edge of the water, and dipping his bandana in it. He wrung it out, then re-secured it around his neck.

"True, we can talk while we fly. Here, let me do something…" Harry realized his new friend was perhaps a little warm. He made a simple gesture with a finger, and Billy only nodded, feeling a cooling sensation wash over him. "Cooling charm," said Harry, at the inquisitive look.

As they took to the air, Harry began explaining his past, inwardly sighing at the number of times he'd already had to repeat this story. Yet, it was only fair that Billy know what he was getting into, in choosing to follow the boy-who-lived. The bottom line, he would be exchanging one set of dangers for another… dangers far worse than staring down the business end of a gun.

For Billy, it was a real eye-opener to a world he never could have imagined. So many things that were the stuff of fairy tales, were in fact very real, just hidden from the non-magical world. Yet, by the same token, it was not all fun and games in Harry's world. He remembered the discussion not much earlier, about the government corruption. The wizard government in Harry's world sounded an awful lot like those who controlled Lincoln county… and to an extent, the state government in New Mexico. Far worse, he considered, at least when he had been arrested, Billy had actually been charged with something, unlike Harry's godfather. Twelve YEARS in prison with no charges? Billy had difficulty wrapping his head around that concept. Were wizards and witches truly that stupid?!

For nearly four hours they flew, stopping several times to double check the map and to verify they were still heading in the right direction. They had left anything that was vaguely familiar to Billy within a half hour. Harry only had a rough knowledge of the United States boundaries, but figured they had crossed into the state of Arizona an hour into the flight.

As they prepared to set down once more, something whizzed by Harry's ear, missing him by mere inches.

"Bloody hell!" Harry shouted, realizing it had been a bullet.

"Harry!" Billy pointed to a spot on the ground, which was coming up far too fast for comfort. Several more bullets whizzed by, as Harry pulled into a sharp bank to the left. He felt Billy redouble his grip, as the broom responded swiftly. They also began a steep climb, Harry cursing under his breath. They'd gone this far without being sighted. Was his luck truly that bad?

Billy, meanwhile, released his grip on Harry, while pulling out his pistol. He'd never actually shot from a moving position travelling this fast before, but this was not the time to debate the pros and cons of doing so. The weapon was already loaded.

"What are you doing?" Harry questioned, alarmed, realizing what Billy was about to do.

"Just keep us steady." Several more bullets whizzed overhead. Billy aimed, doing a mental count, gauging distance, then fired.

Harry almost lost control of the broom from the noise. Sure, he'd been close the first time he'd heard the gun fire, but this was practically beside him! "Bloody hell!"

"What you've never been close to a gun bein' fired before?" Harry only made a sour face, took his right hand off the broom, and gestured at the weapon, almost shouting, "Silencio!"

"What'd you do to it?"

"Try shooting now," Harry answered. Billy took aim again, and pulled the trigger, and was shocked at the fact the weapon made no sound. He'd felt it fire, and saw the smoke, but other than that… he was stunned. "Jesus Christ."

"I think you scored a hit, mate." Harry gestured to the spot, estimating it to be about five-hundred yards away. One of their assailants, of the group of five, now lay prone on the ground. He'd just said that, when another round of bullets permeated the air around them, one coming close enough to nick the fabric of his jeans. A hair closer, and he would have had a bullet lodged in his leg. "Enough of this dragon shit… REDUCTO!!!" A red bolt of magic lashed out from Harry's suddenly produced wand, to slam into the ground amongst the attackers, sending them all flying. He pushed the broom harder, wanting to put distance between them and the attackers before they recovered. "So much for the statute of secrecy."

"The what?"

"I'll explain later… gonna slow so we can check the map." They slowed down to just above a coast, and Billy passed the map back to Harry. He crossed his fingers for luck, and spoke once more, "Locatus, Bill Weasley."

His hopes were answered, as the map indicated a spot just on the opposite side of it, in reference to where they were. The area was mountainous as it was, with their line of sight rather limited—that had prevented them from seeing the assailants on the ground just a minute before until they were almost on top of them. They were all highlighted on the map, about eight hundred yards behind.

Feeling slightly relieved, Harry pressed the broom onward, after passing the map back to Billy. "Keep it open and tell me when we're getting close. The map should keep him marked."

"We should've kept it open from the beginning."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," Harry muttered, as they regained speed. "When we find the camp or whatever, I want you to stay in the trunk."

"I don't think so, Mr. Potter," answered Billy, "Look, you saved my life, it's only right I return the favour, help rescue your friend." Harry only nodded at that. He would likely need all the help he could get. A Muggle using Muggle tactics would throw the faction off guard.

* * *

_**Central American Ministry of Magic, Mexico City**_

The Auror office was buzzing with activity. That morning, the Ministry had detected what appeared to be a Wizarding battle in New Mexico, which fell partially under the Ministry's jurisdiction. The councils of magic that scattered across that country were ill-equipped to deal with anything significant, and usually deferred such problems to either the Central American Ministry, or the Canadians to the north.

At any rate, the ministry had sent out a team of Aurors to investigate the disturbance, and to take appropriate measures. They had arrived on scene to discover indeed, some sort of fight under way, with dangerous and forbidden magic being used. It ceased when they announced their presence, but on search of the residence, they encountered two individuals, one of which used a Muggle firearm and killed one of the Aurors.

That memory had been shared with the appropriate people, including the local council of magic which took care of the lesser issues in New Mexico, operating out of Santa Fe. The Central American Ministry had likewise discovered the identity of the shooter. The Muggle authorities had already placed a five-hundred dollar bounty on the man's head.

The wizard with him, however, was truly an enigma. Never before had they seen someone dressed such as the man was. A white shirt that had the sleeves cut short, with a pair of 'work pants', cotton denim, one of the Aurors remarked. And the footwear… no one could figure out what they were made of. The guy's face had several scars, and emerald eyes blazing with fire, it seemed. His hair hung loosely and stringy about his head, falling to his shoulders. It was mostly raven-black, with a few lighter strands in the mix. No matter, whoever he was, he was a dangerous wizard, and he had seemingly teemed up with an equally dangerous Muggle outlaw.

While that went on, the head of the Auror department was in a conference with the Minister of Magic, debating whether to forward the information to the International Confederation of Wizards, if not at least the Canadians. After all, it had been they who warned the international community about the Red Dawn faction a number of years before. Unlike the English Wizarding society, North American Wizarding governments took dark magic and those who practiced it very seriously.

* * *

_**New Mexico Council of Magic, Santa Fe, NM**_

Not a whole lot happened in this part of the country. At least nothing noteworthy involving the American Wizarding world. Perhaps eight hundred Wizarding folk called the territory home, and save for a few incidents, the office was a very DULL place for a wizard.

Today, however, was by no means ordinary. Shortly after 1 pm, magic detectors had gone off in Fort Sumner, a Muggle village that had been a military installation not long before. They had been notified shortly after by the Central American ministry, and said ministry was sending Aurors to investigate.

Now, nearing supper hour, several officials from the Central American ministry were calling at the office again, as well as Aurors from the Canadian ministry.

"We've come to agreement that there indeed appears to be a possible dark wizard at work," spoke the Mexican official.

"Hence our presence here as well," spoke the Canadian, "We'd rather not have a repeat of 1844."

"Nor do we," the American agreed, "What's the course of action?"

"We think it might be an idea to contact the Lincoln county sheriff."

"Discussing Wizarding matters with a Muggle?"

"As it stands, we may not have a choice," said the Canadian, "If this unknown wizard is aligning himself with a dangerous outlaw… it's likely we will need Muggle help with this."

"And the position of the Central American ministry?"

"They're both wanted by our ministry. McCarty is charged with killing a wizard, and the unknown wizard as an accomplice," answered the Mexican, producing several parchments: wanted posters. "Have those posted in your Wizarding communities. Circulate them with neighbouring councils so they are aware of the potential threat."

"Makes sense."

"We will offer up a contingent of Aurors to assist in the investigation."

"The help is appreciated."

* * *

_**Fort Sumner, NM**_

Sheriff Pat Garrett was baffled. No, he was BEYOND baffled. He was enraged! What in HELL'S name had happened? People do not just POP out of NOWHERE! Yet, that was exactly what had happened so many hours before. If that wasn't incredible in its own right… it was the timing of it all. A few seconds later, and his job would have already been done! He could have done away with William H. Bonney once and for all… collected his five-hundred dollar bounty, maybe settled down… who knows. 'The Kid must have a horse shoe up his ass,' he thought, angrily, as he prepared to mount his horse. Not only had the strangers interrupted Bonney's date with destiny… the strangers had done something to Garrett—somehow bound him in thick ropes. His deputies had to cut him free of them. Bonney and the intruders were long gone by that point.

They had finished their investigation here, although somewhat interrupted a few hours earlier, with a second disturbance at the Maxwell residence. Yet, by the time they had arrived, whatever had been going on was long over. Garrett had to wonder, perhaps the two incidents were related.

"Sheriff Garrett?" The sheriff turned around to find a middle-aged man walking quickly up to him.

"What can I do for you?"

"Just need a minute of your time."

"Sir, I don't have a minute—"

"I have information regarding Henry McCarty."

* * *

_**15 Miles north west of what would be present-day Wellton, AZ**_

They had already circled the site twice. Harry easily spotted five different lookouts, watching for intruders. The broom and its riders, however, would not be easy to spot, since Harry had been smart and put them both under a disillusionment charm. He had mentally kicked himself for not doing it sooner.

"Harry look there. See it?"

"A mine?"

"Think so."

"Fuck. There could be dozens of these bastards inside. We'll set down just over that ridge, then." Harry aimed the broom in the direction of said ridge, his mind already replaying a dozen or so scenarios that could play out here. All of them had potentially devastating outcomes.

Touching down on the opposite side of the ridge, Harry dug into his pockets and pulled out the miniaturized trunk. Setting it on the ground, he tapped it once with a finger, restoring it to normal size. As an afterthought, he shrunk his broom down, and stuck it in his pocket. It could come in very handy later on.

The study was still buzzing with people when Harry stepped into the room. Jiro and Zachariah were both seated on a couch in the 'pit'; both gave Harry a nod.

"You guys actually want to help?"

"I happen to respect Bill," answered Jiro, "And it's only fair we help you."

"Good, thanks."

"We had to give Mr. Tyson a sleeping draught," said Remus, "He was going half-spare when we told him you'd left."

"Thanks. I'll deal with him later. I'd rather him not be a part of the rescue party. He doesn't have enough experience with a wand yet."

"He dealt with the sheriff well enough," Billy pointed out.

"That's different, he was a Muggle. We're about to face fully-grown, EXPERIENCED wizards who won't be afraid to use the dark arts."

"That means, we must make our curses and shots count," said Remus, giving a nod to both Zachariah and Billy, "We won't get a second."

"The faction has set themselves up in—"

"A mine not far from the Arizona/California border," Hermione finished, "We've been to the library at Hogwarts."

"You didn't happen to find a diagram or anything? My map isn't of any use until I actually get inside."

"Sorry." Harry only nodded, snatching a blank piece of parchment from the centre of the table. He did a rough sketch of what he saw, saying, "They've got five sentries watching the entrance. They have to be silenced before we dare approach it."

"Those of us who know how to apparate… we could pop right up behind them and take them that way," suggested Jiro, joining the group.

"I like that," Harry agreed, "Thing is, it would have to happen simultaneously. If just one of them gets wind of us being there…" he needed not finish. Everyone realized what was at stake. Several moments passed, before he finally questioned, "Jiro… you don't happen to have an invisibility cloak?"

"Actually, I do."

"Perfect. I need five others to take care of the sentries outside the mine. Jiro and Zack, you will come with Billy and I, we'll enter the mine under invisibility cloaks."

"There are a number of us also who have invisibility cloaks, Harry," spoke Tonks.

"I know that. I need some people to be visible, right, draw the attention away from us."

"And why would you want Muggles at your side, Potter?" questioned Moody.

"Advantage, of course," Jiro jumped in, "The shit heads won't count on a non-magical attack, it'll throw them off balance. Shocked at the question coming from you of all people, Alastor." Moody made to retort, but Harry held up a hand, saying, "He's exactly right. I've seen enough from both Billy and Zack to know I can trust them."

"I thought you didn't know anything about Mr. McCarty, Harry," said Hermione. That comment got an arched eyebrow from Jiro, as his face paled slightly—he knew EXACTLY who Henry McCarty was, after all, having done quite well in history, both Magical and Muggle. He silently counted his blessings. Had the guy been armed earlier, a bloodied face and an angry partner would have been the least of his worries. So why the hell was Harry trusting the guy?!

"I know enough, and we… ran into some opposition earlier on our flight. Look, time is wasting. Five volunteers, please," said Harry, putting an end to the debate.

The two pairs hidden under invisibility cloaks crept around the sentry closest to the entrance of the mine. Surprisingly, Harry had felt no wards surrounding the perimeter, as he should have expected. These guys were either daft, or far too complacent. Perhaps a good thing, then. Just then, Tonks popped into view directly behind the closest sentry, and just as quickly grabbed him, to pop away again. It happened with each of the others, leaving the area around the opening free.

"They worked fast," said Billy.

"Like clockwork," Harry agreed, "Careful guys, there weren't any wards outside, but it doesn't mean there won't be any inside."

"Your map will help," Billy guessed.

"It better," Jiro snorted.

"It will work. It'll be no different than going into a building with it," answered Harry, "I've used it like this before."

"You mean your 'first time'?" Billy questioned. Harry only nodded. They had approached the rickety gate, and Harry was already gesturing at it with a finger. A strong locking charm had been applied, along with a notification ward. Those immediately inside would be alerted the second they opened it, should they have done so impatiently. He gestured a little more forcefully, and the charms fell. Now, he drew his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered, dispatching his Patronus. The others were still waiting on the other side of the ridge.

"What was that?" questioned Billy, shocked at the ghostly figure that had appeared momentarily from the end of Harry's wand.

"It's a Patronus charm. Only in this case, I'm sending a message to the others. Let's go." He gestured again with his wand, and the gates swung back, only to crumple and sag to the ground with a clatter.

"Fuck!"

"Who's there!?" came a demand from just inside the opening. The answer came as a silent shot that pierced his heart; he was dead before he hit the ground.

"Off to the right side!" Jiro hissed.

"Go," said Harry, and the four of them crouched against the right side of the cave, while he summoned the corpse.

"Nice shot," Harry commented, as he pulled out the map. He was pleased as the detail began to fill itself in, detailing exactly what they were up against. "Locatus, Bill Weasley." The map changed several times, to at last reveal the location of his second partner. "looks like we need to find a lift."

"Looks like that might be it," said Zachariah, pointing to a spot on the map. Harry nodded, tapping it once. The map reverted to showing their current location. "And there. Not in the same place, I bet… probably two or more elevators here."

"And at least three dozen of our friends in between them," said Jiro, pointing to the number of labels.

"We keep quiet, they won't know we're here. We've been lucky… just one wizard inside the gate. Still, when it comes down to it make your shots count. They're the same as Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"I know that, Harry," answered Jiro, "Remember, I lived through some crazy shit too."

"Harry… if we're gonna use the elevator… someone sees it moving by itself… you know?" Zachariah pointed out.

"Right." He glanced at his map again, searching out the nearest faction member. Billy appeared confused as to what Harry was up to, but said nothing. Jiro, though, had a pretty good idea what was about to happen. They crept up to the unsuspecting target, and Harry again raised his wand, whispering, "Imperio."

Continuing to use the map, Harry guided the Imperiused faction member through the tunnels, at last arriving at the lift. He was pushed into it, and the hidden foursome climbed in after.

"As I hoped, wizard lift," said Harry, jabbing his wand at the faction member again. The guy only blinked, then manipulated the controls, while Harry slammed the gate shut. They began to descend at once. As an afterthought, Harry pointed his wand at the ceiling of the tunnel, muttering an incantation.

"What was that for?" questioned Jiro.

"It generates interference. I don't know how long this will take us. We don't want the Red Dawn members to alert their friends below us if the others are discovered."

"True," Jiro agreed.

* * *

_**New Mexico Council of Magic, Santa Fe, NM**_

Garrett and his deputies were in a state of shock, as they sat in the small, non-descript office that had appeared like an abandoned building to most. They now knew this was an illusion, put up to keep non-magical folk away. With a different set of circumstances, the group of Muggles now found themselves amongst wizards, as they seemed to be combating a similar problem. The question now was, how to deal with it. If McCarty had joined up with a dark wizard, God only knew what kind of trouble they would cause!

Just then, the fire in the fireplace roared green, and a man's face appeared in the flames.

"New Mexico council of Magic?"

"Yes, what can I do you for?" questioned the wizard in charge of the office.

"I'm Jim Tateford, Arizona council. We've a report from some mundanes about two men on a broomstick."

"Whereabouts?"

"Southwestern part of our state, close to the California border," answered Jim, "One of the party was shot dead by one of the men. We're still questioning them, and we're just about to send a party out to investigate on site. Given the report we received a few hours ago, we felt it only right to notify you folks at once."

"So he's killed again?" one of Garrett's deputies piped up.

"We don't know that for sure at this point," answered the man in charge of the New Mexico office, then turning back to the fireplace, "May we come through?"

Less than a minute later, the sheriff, his deputies, and several men from the New Mexico office, were gathered in the slightly larger office of the Arizona council of Magic, located in Phoenix. This office was significantly busier than their neighbours to the east, but only natural, given the magical population in Arizona seemed to be double that of its neighbour.

A group of four men were being questioned by Mexican Aurors at this point, considering there had been a murder committed that quite possibly involved a wizard. A pensieve was produced in the meantime, and its contents played for the newcomers.

"That would definitely be McCarty," said Garrett, "Just by his marksmanship alone, but I recognize the clothes, same he was wearing early this morning."

"This wizard is equally dangerous, see what he did to our victims here… lucky no one else was killed," said the lead Auror, with less-than-perfect English, "We're ready to see the site first-hand now. Sheriff Garrett, any idea where they might be headed?"

"No clue. New behaviour for the Kid, all I can say. He usually sticks pretty close to familiar territory."

"Perhaps he's gotten smart and decided to get out while the gettin's good," suggested one of the deputies.

"There could be another reason," offered yet another wizard in the office, "The Red Dawn."

"The who?" questioned Garrett.

"A wizard faction responsible for a lot of trouble a number of years ago… haven't heard hide nor hair of them in a while, it was believed they were well taken care of by our Canadian friends," said Tateford.

"And do you have proof they were taken care of?" questioned the deputy.

"Well…"

"In other words, there could be a wizard faction fixin' to start trouble, and you people have no clue of it."

"That's enough, we aren't here to argue," said Tateford, "As scary as that proposition is, I do have to agree, it is a possibility they may be arming for another round of attacks… both against wizards and Mundanes alike."

"Let's investigate the site of the attack earlier," suggested the lead Auror, "There's a location we might have a look at afterward."

* * *

Harry, Billy, Jiro, Zachariah, and their Imperiused hostage finally exited a second lift. The first thing Harry noticed was the heat.

"Insanely hot down here," he commented, gesturing at himself with his wand, and applying a cooling charm. He did the same to Billy, knowing the first charm he'd applied earlier probably wouldn't have much of an effect at this point.

"We're probably about two-thousand feet down at least," Zachariah guessed, as Jiro applied cooling charms to himself and his partner.

"But why?" questioned Billy.

"Deeper we go into the ground, the closer we get to the middle, the core, right?" said Zachariah, "The earth's crust is only sixty miles deep. After that… it's hot melted rock, called magma."

"The thing is why is it so hot here?" Harry challenged, "I've been this deep before, and it was never THIS hot."

"The magma could be closer to the surface here, I guess," said Zachariah, with a shrug. Harry was again consulting his map. "This way," he said, gesturing again with his wand, forcing his captive forward.

"Harry, they've got anti-apparition wards in place down here."

"I felt it. We'll have to bring those down, I felt an anti-port-key ward as well. I'll loan Bill my wand once we find him, it'll be a cake-walk for him."

"Harry, we don't know what kind of shape he'll be in when we find him," Jiro warned.

"He's alive, that's what matters right now. We're almost there."

"Hey, look at that," said Zachariah, gesturing down a sharply sloping tunnel, from which clouds of steam were rising, rolling along the ceiling, back to the lift. At the bottom, water was literally boiling.

"Merlin," Harry whispered, then, "The magma… must really be close here."

"Mines usually close for flooding," said Billy.

"No, it was the heat," Zachariah corrected, as they passed the opening.

They stepped into a larger cavern, which featured a number of tracks, and several small rail cars. "Mine cars," Zachariah pointed out, "That's how they would have gotten the material out."

"Another pool of boiling water," said Harry, pointing to the rising steam.

"Probably wanna be careful casting magic down here," said Jiro, "And don't touch anything, the whole area's probably hot to the touch."

"Why would anyone come down here though?" questioned Billy.

"They're wizards, they can do the same shit as we can, probably got cooling charms on everything," said Jiro.

"What better way to keep Muggles away," Harry pointed out, "This place was closed because it wasn't safe."

"Harry… get rid of our hostage, we won't need him anymore, right?"

"Right. STUPEFY," he hissed, and the captive dropped, stunned, to the ground. Jiro quickly cast a disillusionment charm over him.

They finally arrived at a large metal door, and Harry cursed himself for getting rid of the captive so quickly. The area around it looked like some sort of mess area, with a wide cooling charm applied. There were a number of faction members around, and so attacking the door would draw immediate attention. Harry cautiously scanned it with his wand, and was not surprised to find it well protected. They would not be getting through it without help. Attempting any kind of magic on it would likely alert the occupants inside. The map indicated at five persons inside, including his partner.

"Harry, maybe it's time to let the others know," whispered Jiro. Harry nodded, erecting a privacy charm around them, as they stood off to the side of the door. "Gather around." They huddled around Harry, as he again pointed his wand, whispering, "Expecto Patronum."

* * *

Remus and the rest of the Order members brought out to help with the rescue had waited nearly ten minutes already. They had gotten the first Patronus message, and now only waited for the second word. Harry had instructed them to move to the entrance but not enter until he sent word. It had been a tense wait, as it was expected there would be dozens of opponents inside. Dumbledore had wanted to only incapacitate them, but Harry had vetoed that idea. They had attacked with impunity, used some of the darkest magic, and abducted one of his partners. Forgiveness was the furthest thing from Harry's mind.

Finally, eleven minutes after Harry and his friends had descended into the mine, a ghostly stag appeared, announcing, "We've reached Bill's location. Enter the mine and attack from the rear." It vanished.

The group moved as one at that point, wands drawn, as they edged into the mine. Those under aged would follow shortly after, it had been decided, and dose any opponent with a strong sleeping potion, which required an antidote before the person could be revived.

The group had gotten about twenty feet into the opening, when a green bolt of magic sizzled overhead.

"Infidels! Intruders!" came a shout from further down the tunnel. Another blast of green magic, this time accompanied by one purple in colour. The group split, scattering to the sides of the tunnel, with Moody and Remus returning spell fire. The fight was on.

* * *

It seemed like only seconds after Harry had sent the Patronus, that the metal door slid open, and two wizards rushed out. Still invisible, Harry and his party seized the opportunity, and rushed in, the door sliding shut immediately after. Harry would worry about that later, but now he was intent on locating his missing boyfriend.

The section they had come into was nothing like the rest of the mine, looking more like a private residence, lavishly decorated. The floor was of light polished granite, with the walls being made of a light wood… pine perhaps, but no less nice, with trim made of a darker wood. The corridor was accented with furniture of darker woods and fabric. They could hear voices further into the facility, and a check of the map verified they were coming from a room toward the back, as the corridor opened up into a common room. To their left, an archway opened up into what looked like a dining room, and presumably a kitchen beyond… if Harry's map was correct. To the right, was a corridor that led to a number of rooms—most likely private rooms within the residence.

Harry wasn't interested in those. His target was another, larger room, separated by a single door directly in front, to the right of a large fireplace. It likely had a floo connection, but was probably warded to the teeth, similar to the connection in his trunk.

"This is it," said Harry, once again brandishing his wand.

"Harry… let me blow the door… you guys get ready to storm in after," Jiro suggested. Harry was about to protest, when he heard muffled voices, and Bill's scream from the other side of the door. No time to debate, he realized, and stepped out of the way, stowing away the invisibility cloak.

"Ready?"

"Do it," Harry whispered. Jiro thrust his wand at the door, shouting, "REDUCTO!" The door was blasted from its hinges, and the four of them stormed into the room.

Harry's face contorted into a fury of rage, at the sight before him. Bill was slumped against a wall, almost unrecognizable with the injuries he had sustained. The individual responsible had been momentarily stunned at the blast, but he only smiled. "Ah, I knew you would come," he sneered, speaking with a slight Russian accent. The other was slammed up against a shelf, knocked senseless by the blast.

"Bastard! You've just signed your own death warrant," Harry hissed.

"Oh, I daresay, you do not scare me, stranger."

"You… have no clue who this is…" Bill managed, from his prone position on the floor. His face was a bloody mess, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

"I'm surprised you all made it this far," the stranger said. Harry only gave a cold smile, having a quick look into the stranger's mind.

"It was pretty simple, Mr. Cochev," Harry smiled again, "Mr. Ivan Cochev." the stranger, Cochev, blinked. How had the newcomer learned his name? He had his wand trained on the four intruders as he pondered the situation. His assistant had been, most unfortunately, caught by the imploding door, and was now no use, crumpled in an opposite corner, beneath a shelf, which contained a number of strange trinkets and devices collected over the past few years. The work table to his direct left contained yet another important device, one he'd hoped he'd never to have to use. Yet, that time had now come.

"Harry, look after Bill. We'll watch him," said Jiro, keeping his wand trained on Cochev. Both Zachariah and Billy had also drawn their guns as insurance. Cochev cocked his head for a moment, saying, "Well, well… the infamous Billy the Kid… most unexpected finding you amongst these infidels. You would have been wiser joining us. Muggle skill with firearms, quite useful in some situations." He watched, as Harry knelt beside Bill, and began casting healing charms. His right leg had been nearly severed just below the knee—it would be very likely he would lose it in the end. The damage was too great. For now, several healing charms would mend a little bit of the damage.

"Why did you do this?" Zachariah questioned, quietly, "What did he do to you?"

"I don't answer to Muggles," Cochev answered bluntly.

"Then why did you ask me? I'm no wizard either," said Billy.

"Ah, but see, you're a special case, Mr. Bonney," answered Cochev, with a cold smile of his own, "We like the work you have done."

"If you mean the men I've killed…"

"I mean that exactly."

"You think I took pleasure in doing that? You have a sick mind, whoever you are, you can go to hell."

"Ah, but see, Mr. Bonney, you will no doubt join me there, as will your friends here." With one swift motion, Cochev slammed a hand down on the device on the table. His action was answered by a single loud gunshot, although two bullets pierced him, one through the chest, another through the stomach, while a red blast of magic just missed his head. He collapsed onto the ground.

Somewhere deeper in the mine, in the last horizontal shaft excavated before the mine closed, a tool that resembled a large wedge was magically slammed into the floor of the tunnel, and continued to drive into the rock with tremendous force. The faction had been quite thorough in the investigation into the mine before ever setting up operations there, and had known a finger of magma had indeed been the reason for the mine's closure. The finger came within only a few hundred feet of the shaft, so it would take very little to obliterate all evidence a mine ever existed here. The wedge now driving a hole through the rock was designed to trigger exactly that.

Cochev lay on the floor of the room, the life slowly draining from him, while Harry glared at him. "Why. Why did you take my partner?"

"I did not take him, he was offered me as a prize," answered Cochev, "He was impossible to turn down… he screams so well."

"Then let's see how you scream… Crucio." Harry whispered, his wand trained on the dying man. He might as well have shouted it for all the world to hear, as the man's screams filled the room.

"Harry!" Jiro exclaimed, disturbed at what he was seeing. Harry ended the curse, and again smiled. "I know you have little life left. Your blood seeps from you as I speak. The thing is, it would be so easy for me to let you live. But what for? To continue to torture others? Your life serves no useful purpose. So may your next great adventure be as useless and pitiful as this one has been."

Harry's cold tone actually made Jiro shiver. He'd never seen this side of the boy-who-lived, and it was beyond unnerving to say the least. It spoke of someone who cared little for the person at the business end of his wand. Could he be as dangerous as Voldemort?

As the man expired, Harry picked up his dropped wand, and tossed it to Bill. "Can you use that?" Bill gave it a wave, and a few golden sparks flew from its tip. "I… I think so. The bastards broke mine."

"There's an anti-apparition ward, and an anti-port key ward on the whole place. We'll need them lifted, think you can manage?"

"I'll need to find the anchor." He gestured at the back wall with the substitute wand, and nodded. "There. By the shelving. Help me up, please." Both Harry and Billy obliged, lifting Bill up between them—his right leg was a wreck.

"Harry… you have to… get rid of my leg," Bill winced, as mind-numbing pain shot up and down his body.

"WHAT?!"

"I'll be okay…"

"NO!"

"Harry… look at it, it's near ready to fall off as it is, and it's killing me!" Bill almost shouted, "Never mind—"

"No, just…"

"Harry, I'll do it," said Jiro, "You're… it's better you don't." Harry only nodded, while Jiro blasted the items off the table. Bill was helped up onto it.

"Stun me, Harry." Harry held up his wand, unsteadily, his hand shaking with what they were about to do. Yet, he realized it was necessary. "S-s-stupefy."

* * *

The Order members launching the secondary assault were suddenly very confused, as a number of faction members started bolting straight for them, shouting, "Get the hell out of here, the whole place is gonna blow!" They held no wands, clearly posing no threat.

"What?!" questioned Sirius, grabbing the first faction member, "What's going on?"

"Look stranger, get out of you value your life!"

"I don't believe you."

"Do the words 'volcanic eruption' mean anything to you?"

"Oh bloody hell… Harry! Oh merlin…"

"I'll dispatch a Patronus," said Arthur.

* * *

"Put… wrap the leg up in something…" Harry muttered, "We might… Madam Pomfrey might… she might be able to do something."

"Harry… no… just forget it," said Bill, "I'll get a prosthetic limb… like what Moody's got. Now help me up so we can look at the wards."

Billy was floored by the strength of the eldest Weasley. He'd just had his leg amputated, and yet he carried on as if nothing had happened. There had been no long, drawn out process. Jiro had only cast some sort of cutting curse on the remaining tendons, muscle, and tissue holding the damaged part of the leg to the rest. It was over in seconds. Harry had cast more healing charms to stabilize the injury, saying they would still need Madam Pomfrey to look at it and do a better job. He'd known grown men who would have just passed out from the ordeal. Yet, within a minute of being stunned, Bill was once again wide awake.

Harry and Billy once again lifted Bill up between them, and helped him over to the corner of the room with the shelving. Jiro had magically dragged the second terrorist out of the way so they could work.

"Hey, look at this," said Zachariah, "Don't you have something like this in your trunk, Harry?" He held up a piece of parchment showing several pictures, pointing at one in particular. It was a picture of the first device he had encountered in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. He started, seeing pictures showing the other devices he had encountered as well.

"Better, what about this…" said Jiro, pointing to another object resting on a lower shelf. Harry only gestured at it with a finger. "Oh bloody hell," he snorted.

"What is it?" inquired Billy.

"Another stop on this cosmic treasure hunt," Harry snorted, "Of COURSE there was a reason for me to be here!" A jerk of his wand, and the device was sent flying across the room, much like the other device he'd 'attacked' that morning. He was in no mood for games. This 'treasure hunt' had just cost Bill his leg. The device came to rest against the wall, glowed blue for a second, and vanished. "Good riddance." Just then, the ground seemed to heave, nearly throwing everyone to the ground.

"Earthquake?" questioned Zachariah, as they fought to keep their balance on the shaky floor, while also trying to keep Bill steady. He had been forced to stop analyzing the wards.

It finally ceased fifteen seconds later, and Bill once again set to work, unravelling the two wards put in place to prevent magical travel. Just then, a silvery weasel appeared, and Mr. Weasley's voice warned, "Red Dawn is fleeing the mine, warn they may have triggered a volcanic eruption. Get out of there quickly!"

"Great. Just great. As if this can't get any better!" Harry growled. He'd just gotten the words out, when the floor heaved again.

"Just about done," said Bill, making another thrust with his wand, "Get ready to apparate us out of here!"

"Just say the word," said Harry, while Jiro was summoning a stack of parchment from the shelving, shrinking them down, and stuffing them into his pocket.

Deep within the mine, the wedge had pushed deep enough into the ground for it to no longer matter. The magma surged forward, the pressure easily busting through the feeble layer of ground separating it from the rest of the mine. It filled the excavated chamber within seconds.

* * *

The party from the Arizona council of magic was then investigating the site of the alleged attack from McCarty and his wizard accomplice. Indeed, there was a strong indication of powerful destructive magic being unleashed, along with the impact of several bullets. A single blood stain indicated the place where one person had been felled by the bullets, with shell casings around indicating return fire.

"That confirms it then, this was definitely McCarty's work," said one of the deputies.

"The wizard cast the blasting charm… most unnerving the power in it," one of the Mexican Aurors declared.

"Yes, unnerving I agree. The report said they headed south west from here," said the official from the Arizona office.

"That's as I suspect then. They've affiliated with the Knights of the Red Dawn."

"They were reported to have some sort of outpost near the Arizona/California border. It might be worth having a look," said the official from New Mexico, reaching down and picking up a piece of dead wood, "Portus. Gather around, then."

They landed in the middle of chaos. Individuals dressed in crimson robes were fleeing the entrance to a mine, with others scattered amongst them. The officer from New Mexico wasted no time dispatching a Patronus to the Mexican Ministry, while his compatriot from Arizona dispatched one to the Canadian Ministry in Toronto. Whatever was going on here, it was well and above the force of six Muggle law men, and five Ministry Aurors. It looked like an all-out war was under way!

"Who are you?!" a young witch demanded, wand already trained on the newcomers. A young wizard with flaming red hair stood beside her, also brandishing a wand.

"Ministry of Magic, Lower your wands," spoke one of the Mexican Aurors. That did not go unheard by one of the Red Dawn faction members. "MINISTRY RAID!" he shouted, forgetting about the impending disaster about to unfold from deep within the mountain.

* * *

"Harry!" Zachariah pointed hurriedly at the map. Part of the drawing was vanishing, as if it didn't exist any more.

"What's that mean?" questioned Billy.

"We don't have a way out of here unless we apparate," said Harry, "The way out is gone." That section of the map was already gone, meaning it had already filled with molten rock. Even with the cooling charms on their persons, it was becoming uncomfortable.

"HARRY!" Zachariah shouted, pointing wildly through the door. The metal door at the far end of the area had melted away, with glowing, searing hot magma racing through the opening.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTE: So… I decided not to kill Bill. I remember the flack I got in "Canadian Intervention", and would rather not a repeat. Yet, I felt something traumatic had to happen to him, given the sick nature of the "Red Dawn". I did touch on that with the brief discussion between Henry and Cochev. Still… loss of limb is better than loss of life, no?_

_I'm sure there will be people whining about Harry's use of unforgivable curses here. Yet, I do cite at least three occasions in "Deathly Hallows" where he does exactly that (see page 428 and 429 ((cdn. Soft-cover edition)) for an exact example). Also bear in mind, Harry's lived through eleven years of HELL before he was sent back through time, a hell that on many occasions forced Harry to use the unforgivables. This is a combat situation, and he's not gonna play nice._

_(1) Roughly translates to "Magnify, minimum"._

_(2) The reverse of above, translates to "Magnify, maximum"._


	28. Fire on the Mountain

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ scotsremusfan, zutarakid50, StoryTagger, Thenchick, and kehlencrow__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

CAUTION: Coarse language.

* * *

**-CHAPTER XXVII-  
FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN**

**Or, potentially explosive encounters are to be had**

**

* * *

**With the unexpected arrival of both Muggle and magical law enforcement, the scene outside the mine had descended into chaos. The Canadian Ministry of Magic now had forces on the ground joining their Mexican counterparts, as they attempted to deal with nearly a hundred crimson-robed terrorists. The young witches and wizards in the fray were also attempting to round up the terrorists, and so law enforcement realized they were working for the light side in this fight… along with the rest of the wizards not dressed in crimson.

Remus and Sirius had teamed up with a pair of Canadian Aurors, helping to round up the faction members. At present, the quartet were working the far side of the hill, and growing rather nervous at how close they were getting to Harry's trunk. They would collar a group of the terrorists, and an Auror would port-key them to either the Canadian or Central American ministry, whichever nationality the Auror happened to be.

"We've got a lot, I'll port-key them off, then," said one of the Aurors, snatching up a stone from the ground. He charmed it, linked himself to the bound and stunned captives, and they vanished.

"You still haven't explained your presence here," said the remaining Auror.

"I would tell you if we knew," said Remus, "This past few hours has been somewhat complicated."

"You will have to come up with a better answer than that," said the Auror, "You both are British by accent."

"Yes, we are. Yet now is not—STUPEFY!" Sirius snapped, stunning an approaching faction member.

"What is your stake in this fight?" the Auror persisted.

"My godson is in that mine," answered Sirius. At just that moment, the ground began to tremble fiercely, almost throwing the three wizards to the ground. The tremor grew stronger by the second, making it impossible to remain standing. The three wizards dropped to the ground, many others having already done so.

"What in Merlin's name?"

"Earthquake, they get them in these parts," explained the Auror. The shaking finally stopped a few seconds later.

"Let's head over there, give the Muggle authorities a hand."

With the confusion, at least a third of the faction members had been rounded up in only a few minutes. Yet, many still continued to fight, with the occasional burst of green magic flying overhead. The young witches and wizards were quickly retreating back to the trunk on instructions from the Order—it was much more dangerous for them to be out in the open.

The Muggles had done an admirable job in rounding up a group of faction members on their own, holding ten of them at gunpoint, a stash of wands at the feet of the sheriff.

"Sheriff Garrett… well done," said the Auror, while Remus summoned the stack of wands. "We'll want to check those and probably destroy them."

"Agreed on that," said Remus, offering them. The Auror only shook his head. "We wait for Sandford to return." He'd just got the words out of his mouth, when the second Canadian Auror reappeared amongst them.

"Got another group of ten to go."

"And their confiscated wands," said Remus.

"Excellent. Another port key is in order, then. We'll have a full holding cell tonight by the looks of it." Sandford reached down and plucked up another stone. It was a repeat of only minutes before, as he linked the prisoners to him, and activated the port key.

As quickly as he'd vanished, another wizard popped in amongst them. Garrett knew this man was not to be reckoned with. He was missing his left eye, and in its place, a white sphere spun in its place somewhat erratically. He was missing a chunk from his nose, and his face was covered with several deep scars. This man had seen many battles.

"The mine's filling with molten rock," he announced.

"Pardon me?" questioned one of the deputies. Sirius hadn't heard. "HARRY!!"

* * *

Harry instantly sized up the situation, and thrust his wand at the rapidly approaching magma flow, casting a strong freezing charm. It had the desired effect, freezing the flow right in its tracks. He knew, however, that had only bought them a minute or so. The earth's own energy was against them; it would soon break through the charm holding it back.

"Bill… how much longer?"

"Any time now, just another few seconds," answered Bill, as he worked feverishly to break the wards. "It should have broken when the magma flow breached the mine."

"It's as if they factored in this sort of thing," said Jiro, keeping one eye on Bill as he worked, the other on the temporarily frozen lava flow.

"Shit! Harry!" Billy pointed to the opposite corner of the room, which was getting brighter by the second… and then… the wall melted away and the edges instantly burst into flames, with a massive gob of molten rock pouring through the opening.

"It's done, let's go!" Bill cried, gripping Harry's shoulder. The rest needed no prodding, grabbing on wherever they could. Harry gave a slight twist, and they vanished with a loud CRACK. Anyone who could have seen immediately after, would have seen what looked like a middle fingernail suspended in mid-air, quickly consumed by the molten rock which invaded the space a fraction of a second later.

* * *

The ground made another massive jolt, and with it, a fiery stream of molten rock blasted from the mine's opening. It sent people on the ground around it scattering, but a few were not so lucky.

Sirius and Remus both were completely out of sorts, as they watched the mountain come awake with hellish fury. The smoke was already climbing into the sky, a flow of melted rock quickly winding its way down the path of least resistance.

"Get to safety, come on," Moody prompted, gruffly, "Potter won't want either of you roasted alive."

"Harry… Harry's gone…" answered Sirius, in a defeated voice, "He was in there… you know he was in there." The ground shook again, as the group began to make for the ridge, forcing them all to again drop and wait it out.

"You gents best follow us," said Moody.

"The trunk… we'd best move the trunk," said Remus, equally upset at the spectacle. Other Order members had already apparated away to safety, as had the majority of the Red Dawn.

The ground shook again, and this time the top of the hill burst apart, spewing a geyser of fire nearly a hundred feet into the air. The pressure had been too great for it to continue spewing from the smaller hole that had been the entrance to the mine.

"This Potter character… was Billy the Kid with him?" questioned Garrett, still rooted to the spot.

"He was," answered Moody, "Now come on, gents."

"No need, I think our job is finished here," said Garrett, "He was inside, I assume." That got sad nods from both Remus and Sirius, still struck dumb by the circumstance.

"I'm afraid it isn't that simple," said one of the Canadian Aurors, "We will still de-brief in Phoenix." At just that moment, there was a loud CRACK, and five figures suddenly appeared not far from the opposite ridge, only a few yards from where the men were gathered.

"HARRY!" Sirius burst, making a bee-line for his godson, the others not far behind.

"Fuck!" Harry hissed, grabbing his left index finger.

"What? What's wrong?" questioned Bill.

"Splinched myself… Episkey," Harry hissed, placing his right finger over his bleeding left index. It instantly healed.

"Ministry of Magic!" spoke one of the Canadian Aurors.

"It's okay," answered Harry, "We… we're okay."

"No, it's not 'okay', sir." Harry turned to see the man he'd bound in ropes so many hours earlier, "You and Mr. Bonney here… are under arrest."

"Sheriff Garrett, I assume," answered Harry, as he and Billy still supported Bill between them.

"Harry… what happened to Bill?"

"Bastards hacked off my leg… or almost," Bill answered, "Need… need Madam Pomfrey sooner rather than later."

"We'd best get into the trunk then."

"We're not done here!" said Garrett, "No one is going anywhere…"

"Mr. Garrett… I've just been through HELL," Harry hissed, "Almost killed, several times today… almost burned alive by this—" he gestured angrily to the stream of fiery molten rock being spewed from the young volcano, "—Had my boyfriend here almost beaten to death… you really want to try my patience?"

"Harry…"

"The bunch of you… can all piss off!"

"Harry this isn't helping matters," said Bill, "Put me down and let's straighten this mess out so I can get proper medical attention."

"I can go alert Madam Pomfrey," offered Zachariah. Harry nodded, and he took off. Meanwhile, Harry and Billy carefully set Bill down, then stood to face the two law enforcement factions.

"Harry… they're only after me," said Billy.

"No, actually, it is the both of you," said the Canadian Auror.

"For what reason?" questioned Harry.

"We believe the both of you were conspiring with the Knights of the Red Dawn," answered the Auror.

Harry burst out laughing. Of course it wasn't the first time he'd been accused of turning dark, but it still had him baffled.

"Oh, that's good," he snickered, "Accusing me of going dark? I don't know whether I should be amused or offended."

"Be that as it may…"

"You've all gone 'round the twist if that's what you truly think!" Harry snarled, "The same faction who abducted one of my partners, and busted his leg so badly we had to cut it off? I tell you what, why don't you all go get BENT!" Both Sirius and Remus looked scandalized at the comment, while Billy and the rest of the Muggles only blinked at the statement. The Auror guessed it probably didn't mean something nice, but left it at that. The ground once again heaved, as the volcano belched out another burst of hot rock, with several pieces nearly missing the group.

"Bill… let's get you up so we can get out of here," Harry decided, kneeling down and offering a hand. Billy copied the motion.

"We are not done here!" spoke one of the deputies, harshly.

"I think we are. Look, in about two minutes from now, we will be leaving, with no trace we were ever here," said Harry.

"You have charges to answer for, Mr…" queried the Auror.

"Potter. Harry Potter."

"Right. Never mind the fact that Mr. Bonney here has five charges himself to answer for—"

"Six, actually, given his escape from custody in April," said another deputy.

"Just tell everyone we were killed in the mine," said Bill, "We won't ever be returning here." He leaned on Billy and Harry's shoulders, and was hoisted up to stand on his good leg.

"And when it really counts, there isn't a whole lot you can do to stop us," Harry added.

"Harry…" It was too late. The sheriff and his deputies had all drawn their guns, leveling them at Harry and Billy.

"It'll be the last thing you do," said Sirius, leveling his wand at the Muggles. Remus had done the same, as had Jiro, and Bill. Billy had also drawn his firearm, to even up the odds a bit.

"Just try us," said Harry, calmly, his eyes looking more like ice chips, "And you'll find out EXACTLY why a Muggle should fear a wizard."

"We will be leaving now… whether it be peacefully or not, that's up to you," said Jiro.

"You swear it, you're leaving, and not coming back?" questioned Garrett, uncomfortably, as five wizards now had their wands trained on him.

"I asked Harry if I could," said Billy, shifting slightly to better support Bill, who was a bit taller than he was.

"And I agreed. I don't know what kind of justice you people offer here, but it doesn't sound all that fair to me," said Harry, "I think my new friend here will be better off with us. You can be sure you'll not see any of us again."

"Sheriff…"

"I guess I can agree to those terms. It'll make for some easier paperwork in the end."

"Just to be clear," said the Auror, "You were never working with, nor did you ever plan to work with the Red Dawn."

"Never," answered Harry, "Those people only want to cause pain, misery, and destruction. It goes against everything I stand for, everything my parents stood for. Joining with them would sully their memory."

"That is an answer I can live with. Mr. Garrett, gentlemen, I think it best we get going, before we're roasted alive." He pointed to the lava trail inching closer to their location. "Good luck, Mr. Potter, Mr. Bonney." The sheriff, his deputies, and the Auror linked arms, and vanished with a noisy POP.

"Good time to do the same," said Sirius.

"You mind? I splinched myself just a minute ago," said Harry.

As soon as they landed in the third trunk, Harry summoned Kreacher, instructing him to retrieve the trunk, and return to their proper world and time. The elf only nodded, and vanished. The group quickly proceeded back to the common room, where they found Madam Pomfrey waiting.

"Oh dear," she said, realizing at once the extent of the injury, "What of the severed appendage?"

"Destroyed," answered Bill, as he was set on one of the couches. The healer was at once casting a number of analysis charms on the injury.

"We might have been able to heal it altogether, Mr. Weasley."

"And he could have died waiting for help," answered Harry, and Bill nodded in agreement, adding, "I told them to get rid of it altogether."

"He's still alive… all that matters," Harry muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, then, "I don't know… I can't… I couldn't go through that… that sort of thing again." Just then, Kreacher reappeared, announcing, "The trunk is being brought back with the others."

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry. the elf bowed low, and popped away.

"We're really in another universe?" questioned Billy. Harry only nodded, answering, "Once things settle, I'll take you outside the trunk so you can have a look." He sighed, then said, "I'll probably not be very good company for the next while… past few days have been hell."

The discussion was interrupted, when Molly and Arthur rushed into the common room, the rest of the family not far behind.

"Oh Bill!" Molly shrieked, seeing the state of her eldest child. Harry felt a large lump rise in his throat, personally feeling her anguish at seeing her son so disfigured.

"Mum, it's all right," Bill tried to placate his hysterical mother, but it was to no avail. "Harry… you mind me having some time alone?"

"No… err… yeah, of course," said Harry, quickly understanding. "Guys… come into the study. And Jiro… thanks."

"Was the right thing to do," answered the dark-haired man, "I've been a bit of an ass toward you, but still…" That comment earned a warm smile from the boy-become-man. Yes, the wizard had somewhat redeemed himself in the past hour.

"I… uh… need to use the facilities," said Billy, politely.

"Oh. Right, this way," said Harry, and led Billy back to the bedroom. "Right through that door."

"Thanks." Billy went in, and closed the door, but moments later came back out, with a confused look on his face. "Um…"

"What?"

"Never seen anything like this before."

"Shit, sorry, forgot."

Harry ended up spending a short while explaining the marvels of modern plumbing to the former outlaw, being careful not to let his amusement show too much. He stepped back into the bedroom, pulling the door closed, and grimaced. Matt was still asleep on their bed. That was another uncomfortable conversation looming. He knew Matt would be pissed at him for not including him in the rescue, but he had most unfortunate evidence to back up his worries. Two of his loves now were horribly maimed because of his misadventures. Speaking of… he concentrated, and his clone appeared. "Visit with Cedric."

"Right. I'll see to Mrs. Diggory as well," the clone decided, and popped away. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. It would be so easy to just crash for a while, after all that had happened. He knew there would be an uncomfortable conversation with Hermione in the very near future regarding their misadventures. Yet in hindsight, he only did what he had to do, and would not apologize for it.

His eyes fell on something laying haphazardly up against the wall in the corner, and he almost let out a scream of frustration. The very same object he'd sent flying deep in the mine—had somehow landed in his bedroom. At this point, he felt nothing but anger and contempt toward the three devices he'd collected. This latest one had almost cost them dearly. Sure, he'd gained a new friend, but… Bill had lost the lower part of his leg, just below the knee.

The device discovered before that… had resulted in Lucas and his family being dragged along, and they had lost everything and everyone they knew because of that. He knew all about what it felt like to be in a strange world, among strangers. Now, although by accident, he had forced that on other people.

The first device he had found had resulted in him meeting Matt—something he most definitely did not regret. Yet, it had also resulted in a near-fatal run-in with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, in a place he never expected them. These devices seemed to be nothing but trouble.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Billy stepped back into the bedroom.

"I still need to check in with everyone. You don't have to come, so feel free to make yourself at home," said Harry.

"I better come along for now."

"Back into the library, then."

The next several hours were spent with both Harry and Billy giving an account of their flight across two states, including their run-in with locals. As expected, Hermione gave him an ear-full for not only violating the Statute of Secrecy, but changing history in such a gross manner.

"What would you have me do, Hermione?!" Harry finally lashed out, "Just let Bill die?! They fucked up his leg so badly we had to amputate it. He was a mess when we found him! When it comes to the people I care about, I don't really give a flying FUCK about the statute of secrecy!"

"Harry, I would expect you to show more maturity than that," Dumbledore chided. That got a cold look from the boy-turned-man. "Put yourself in my shoes, sir—all of you for that matter! What would you have me do?!"

"It's exactly that sort of thing that gets people killed, Potter, you yourself know that of all people," Moody reminded.

Harry slumped back in his seat. The grizzled old wizard knew exactly how to punch home a point, and he only needed to look at his godfather seated across the table from him to know exactly what Moody was talking about.

"Sorry," Harry spoke, weakly, "Emotions involved, you know what I mean…"

"We all make mistakes, kiddo," spoke Sirius, with nods of agreement around the table.

"Mine tend to be colossal," Harry muttered, "Had I only been more careful this afternoon. It was a mistake to apparate directly into the house… but I didn't expect there to be WIZARDS there, never mind the Red Dawn faction!"

"You saved my life… and your friend's in the end," Billy pointed out.

"Yes, but we could have avoided all that if I just exercised a little bit more caution."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," said Jiro, "All you can do is hope to learn from it."

"This coming from someone who has a knack for offending people," said Hermione, darkly. Jiro made to retort, but decided otherwise. Any comment would only prove her right. "I for one would love to see you mouth off to Snape, see how far it gets you."

"Guys! This isn't helping!" Harry exclaimed, exasperated, "Yeah, he's got a problem with his social filter, but he made up for it well today, I think."

"Thanks… I think," said Jiro, standing. He pulled out the shrunken pages of parchment he had hastily grabbed, and began resizing them.

"Yeah, guess that's the next issue," Harry said, "We found another artefact in the mine. It looks like the first one I came across when I met Matt. It somehow followed me back here, just like the one I found in the Room of Requirement."

"It likely didn't appreciate you sending it flying across the room," Billy commented.

"I was pissed that I'd been dragged into another universe because of some… some… thing or object that I have no clue of what it's supposed to do!!" Harry snarled, "It's like I've been forced onto some giant, cosmic scavenger hunt! All of you know how I feel about being misled and manipulated… but… this… I can't fight this!" he slumped back in his chair, looking defeated.

"Then maybe we need to try and figure out exactly what we're dealing with," said Jiro, "That's why I grabbed all this stuff. There has to be an answer here."

"What kind of device?" questioned Billy.

"Harry's found a strange artefact in each of the dimensions he's been dragged into," said Hermione.

"Like I said, it's like I'm being forced to participate in some sort of cosmic scavenger hunt. I don't exactly have time for that sort of dragon shit right now! Having to deal with Voldemort and his Death Eaters is enough on my plate as it is… never mind the prospect of dealing with ministry interference at Hogwarts this year."

"I am still working on that, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"I'd rather have Snape teaching Dark Arts Defence than that sycophant toad," Harry spat.

"That's PROFESSOR Snape, Harry."

"Right, sorry. By the way where is he? And Draco for that matter?"

"Working in the potions lab," answered Remus. Harry only nodded. It would make sense that they would be spending time together, considering Snape was Draco's godfather, and effectively his parent at this point. No surprise that neither of them had helped with the rescue.

"This place… there are a lot of people around," Billy noted.

"Thanks to me," Harry answered, with a scowl, "Had it not been for me, Ron's family wouldn't be here, nor would Cedric's, nor would Luna's."

"Harry…"

"Hermione, I know, but it's hard NOT to, okay?!" Harry exclaimed, frustrated, "Every step I've taken since I came back from the future has brought nothing but chaos! The timeline I come from is null and void at this point, I think you all know that!"

"Yes, perhaps you might be correct in most ways, Harry, but do remember, people still behave and react in predictable ways," Dumbledore reminded, "Even though you have changed many things, don't disregard your future experiences."

"I SO want to HEX you right now…" Harry turned to see Matt, glaring at him from the doorway. "And I wouldn't blame you if you did," he answered. Tonks, who had occupied the seat on Harry's left quickly vacated it, and Harry motioned for Matt to take a seat. He did so, muttering something unintelligible.

"Mr. Tyson, Harry was only looking out for you," said Remus, "The situation was extremely dangerous—"

"And what happened this morning wasn't?!" Matt shot back, "Look, I ain't some fluffy bunny that has to be handled with kid gloves, for fuck's sake!"

"No, but you're nowhere near experienced enough to deal with what we were fighting!" Harry yelled, "Bill almost died today! You could have been killed just as easily!"

"I just… I want to help you, don't just push me aside!"

"I'm not! It's just… I almost lost one partner today, that would have been bad enough! I had a choice to keep you safe, and I made that choice. And I'd do it again. Matt… I love you as much as I love Bill or Cedric. You understand?"

"I… and I love you too… but fuck, you just pushed me aside!"

"And I'd do it again if it meant saving you from what just happened to Bill."

"What… what happened to him?"

"We had to amputate his right leg just below the knee," Harry answered. 'O', Matt mouthed, as the gravity of the situation set in.

"Yeah, 'O' is right. The rest of the Weasleys are with him right now, while Madam Pomfrey looks after him. I should be there too, but—"

"It's better you're not," said Sirius, to which Harry nodded, "Exactly. Bill and I will spend time later."

"But Harry… you can't just keep me locked away like some fragile china doll! I'm not! Give me a chance to help you… 'cause like it or not, I would die for you."

Dumbledore only sat back, watching the interaction between the two of them. It was clear Tyson meant every word of what he just said. The aged wizard already carried a vast amount of respect for the guy; it had just gone up considerably. Perhaps a slight change of plans would be in order…

"We were lucky today," Harry muttered, as he got changed for bed, "No one was killed, at least no one on our side."

"Very lucky, considering we faced a volcano," said Bill, as he made himself comfortable. The muffled noise coming in from the adjacent room told Harry it would likely be very late before Matt would be joining them. Billy had sat on the edge of his assigned bed, seemingly contemplating the other two figures in the room, but perhaps lost in his own thoughts.

"All that's important, is you're still here with me. I'm just sorry it took us so long to find you."

"Harry… something we should have done a long time ago, is set up emergency port keys. Had we been carrying those, this wouldn't have happened… or turned out as it did."

"A port key… that's what you used this morning, right?" questioned Billy.

"Yes."

"How far can one take you?"

"I don't know, really," answered Bill, "Theoretically, just about anywhere you can imagine… as long as you've been there before. Or as we did this morning, to be able to see a memory of a place."

"Bill… do you mind setting those up? What would be perfect, would be one that could be reused," Harry suggested.

"I might know of something that could work that way. I'll have to look into it. I have a tome covering transportation spells and charms at work."

"What will the goblins think about you missing a leg?"

"Nothing of it, as far as I understand it," answered Bill, "As long as I can still do the work, I doubt they will really care. We'll need to visit Phinias', hopefully tomorrow, see about a prosthetic. It'll be expensive, but crutches will only get me so far."

"Let me pay for it," said Harry, "If it hadn't been for me charging headlong into things, you wouldn't be needing it." Bill began to protest, but Harry held up a hand. "Look. It's not gonna put a dent in my vault by any means."

"So you're rich, then?" questioned Billy.

"Something like that," Harry answered, feeling a grin cross his face, "Money's no object if that's what you mean. Mum and dad were well off, right. Although I'd trade it all to have them alive with me, rather than a portrait powered by their memories." Billy only nodded in understanding. It had been a number of years since he had seen his mother, and his father—he'd never known him. Yet, in retrospect, at least Billy had known his mother, and known her well. Harry had not had that privilege.

He at last removed his belt and holster, then stretched out on the bed, contemplating the past twenty-four hours. It had been a life-changing event, that was for sure. To be saved from a bullet, only to face the hell-fire of the earth itself hours later—never mind the strange, deadly magic those people in crimson outfits had been throwing toward him! It was more than a rude introduction to the world of magic.

All the same, he was more than happy to take the risk in following the black-haired man into his world, leaving his own behind. As he'd already decided so many hours prior, there had been nothing left for Billy in his own world. This was a chance for him to wipe the slate clean, to perhaps carve out a different path for himself… one that didn't end at the business end of a gun—or wand, for that matter.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTE: Right... next chapter, Harry and co. head back to Hogwarts, finally!_


	29. Back to Hogwarts

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ Rushingriver, Thenchick (my 100__th__ review), and zutarakid50__. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted April 20, 2010 (Happy 4-20 everyone *smirks* )_

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXVIII-  
BACK TO HOGWARTS**

**Or, Return of the Toad**

**

* * *

**The following morning, Harry woke to once again find himself pinned between two of his loves. 'Almost right with the world,' he thought to himself, as he allowed the world to slowly come into focus. It was truly a blessing not needing glasses anymore. He tried to shift over, but Matt would have none of that, even though he was fast asleep, pulling Harry closer.

"They both love you?" Harry looked up to see Billy once again sitting on the edge of his bed, eyeing the trio curiously.

"Yeah, very much so," answered Harry, as he again tried to extricate himself from Matt's grip. The guy was like a vice at times! "Then there's Cedric… I told you about him already."

"But why? Can't you just pick one and well—"

"No. I can't," answered Harry, "If I could marry all of them, I would."

"Lucky you."

"What, you jealous?" Harry grinned.

"What?! Eh… no… Jesus Christ! I like the ladies, thank you very much!" Billy sputtered, feeling his face turn quite red. That got a smirk from Harry, as he at last managed to free himself from the two men who shared his bed. There were things to take care of today, after all. "This… we aren't making you uncomfortable?" questioned Harry. Billy only shook his head. "A little strange, but I can live with it."

"Once I get this trunk mess sorted out, I'll set you up in your own room. You probably don't want to hear or see us… well… being intimate."

"Gee, thanks for that wonderful visual," Billy muttered. Harry only smirked a second time, then said, "Right. Today I have to help Bill get an artificial leg. You can come with if you like."

Billy was not really in the mood to be dragged all over hell's creation, but yet, he was still a stranger to most of the people there, and in the end, decided it best to stay with Harry. They had spent a good portion of the morning in the strangest shop he'd ever seen, as Bill was fitted for a new prosthetic leg, which would fit on over the stump just below the knee.

Once finished with that piece of business, Harry dragged Billy into Madam Malkin's for a change of wardrobe. He'd somewhat resisted the idea, but Harry did quite well in the persuasion department, as did Bill and Matt, for that matter. Harry held off on the idea of taking him out into Muggle London, as that might be a culture shock to the young man—as if a visit to Diagon Alley hadn't been enough of a shock as it was!

As they collected themselves off the common room floor (Harry had still not mastered the intricacies of floo travel), He grinned, hearing music wafting out from the corridor.

"Come listen to our new material," said Matt, practically dragging the others along.

"Wait, can't go that fast," Bill reminded, as he tried to keep up. Being on crutches really limited his speed. Although he had been fitted for a prosthetic, it would take several days to actually make it, and he would be stuck with the crutches until then.

"You play music of some sort," Billy guessed, as Matt led them into the studio, somewhat slower to account for Bill.

"Definitely," Matt grinned.

Sure enough, the other members of "Thrice Defied" were holding an impromptu jam session, and Lucas looked like he'd gone over the moon. His wife was seated beside him on the sofas in the corner, looking rather defeated.

"Mrs. O'Callaghan… where's Seamus?"

"Mrs. Weasley was kind in offering to look after him for a bit," answered Meghan, "She seemed to relish in the distraction." Harry only nodded in understanding.

"Yes, speaking of my mother. I do need to see to her for a bit," said Bill, planting a kiss on Harry's forehead.

"No it's all right," said Matt, strapping on one of his guitars, "We'll keep Harry out of trouble."

"As if…" Harry snorted, although it was all in cheek.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon and then some, as the band continued to work on the material they had pulled from Lucas' iPod. Billy didn't seem all that impressed with the kind of music the band was playing, and so Lucas loaned him said iPod, and showed him how to use it. Billy most certainly liked music in general, and took to it quickly.

"Lucas… what kind of music is this?" Billy questioned, pulling one of the earphones off, and passing it over. Lucas put it in, and smiled. "Ah… it's a type of electronic music—computer generated, it's called trance."

"The sounds… they're very—"

"Hypnotic?" Lucas finished, to which Billy nodded. Lucas passed him back the earphone. The guy obviously liked what he was hearing. Then again, if what he knew of the guy in the first place was correct, Billy did like to sing, after all.

"Trance? What about trance?" questioned Zachariah, sticking his head in the doorway.

"I have more than a few tracks on my iPod," answered Lucas.

"Billy… come with me," said Zachariah. Billy arched an eyebrow, but Harry only nodded.

"You have a separate apartment," said Billy, as Zachariah led him into their private common room.

"Yes, for several reasons," answered Zachariah, "As you've noticed, my partner suffers from foot-in-mouth disease. We're lucky Harry's not thrown us both out on our asses. And I apologize for his behaviour yesterday." Billy only nodded, while Zachariah continued, leading him into one of the rooms, "So anyway… this is our own study…"

"Mr. Tyson and his friends have some things like this upstairs," said Billy, spotting several pieces of equipment similar to those in use by the band. Most things in the room, however, were VERY foreign to him. Jiro was at the other side of the room, with the twins—Fred and George, if Billy remembered correctly. They were gathered around a similar device that Zachariah had just sat in front of. Jiro finally looked over and gave a nod, to which Billy nodded in return. All was forgiven at this point.

"Now… Jiro… gonna put on Turnpoint 2006(1). Billy's got an interest."

"Really?" Jiro arched an eyebrow. "It's a good mix, you'll like it."

"This music… how is it made?" questioned Billy, as he watched Zachariah messing with the device in front of him. It had a large panel that was somehow lit from the back, with a lot of text and symbols on it. In front of it was a sort of board with a lot of buttons or keys on it… and Zachariah was guiding a small device that somewhat reminded him of a pear around with his right hand.

"That's a complicated question," answered Zachariah, as several windows popped open, showing more text and symbols.

"What is this thing you're using?"

"It's called a computer. Probably one of the greatest things ever invented, but also one of the worst, depending on who you ask. Now…" He manipulated the pear-like device again, and sound poured from the two boxes resting at either side of the glowing panel. Speakers, Billy remembered Matt calling them. Jiro looked up from his own computer, reached over, and flipped several switches on another device at his workstation, and the sound seemed to come from everywhere.

"Better?" he asked. Billy nodded, and Jiro added, "This stuff needs to be played on good speakers."

When Matt and the band took a break, Harry had to grin, hearing—or more like feeling—the music coming from the apartment below. How long before someone from the study would go complain? The type of music Jiro was playing tended to shake the floor with the beat, and they hadn't bothered putting silencing charms on the ceiling, so the entire trunk tended to feel—and hear it. It was a good thing the potions lab had been set up in the second trunk.

He wasn't about to go scold them, however. They tended not to do it late at night, and if it was keeping Billy entertained, all the better. The guy would need to find a new place in the world, and if he found that hanging out with Jiro and Zachariah, it was fine with Harry.

* * *

Before they realized, it was August 30th. Just two more days before they would return to Hogwarts. As the large group had breakfast, Dumbledore stepped into the room.

"Professor," Harry greeted.

"I was hoping to catch everyone at breakfast," said Dumbledore, who then reached into his robes, and pulled out a small stack of envelopes. "Your book lists." He set them on the table, and made a simple gesture at them with his wand. Each took flight in search of its owner. Matt looked at his with curiosity. Why would he be getting one of those?

"Oh! Professor Dumbledore!" everyone looked to see Ginny step into the room, having obviously just woken.

"And good morning, miss Weasley," answered the headmaster. The envelopes had all by this point located their owners, and the food had appeared on the tables. Ginny took a seat at her mother's table—the final letter in the stack followed her and slapped down on the table in front of her—while her twin brothers sniggered between each other about her rather loud entrance. That earned a scowl from Mrs. Weasley.

"_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_, by Miranda Goshawk, and _Defensive Magical Theory_, by Wilbert Slinkhard," Hermione read from the second parchment.

"As much as I do regret having to say this, it has come to pass. Madam Umbridge has been appointed to fill the vacant Defence Against the Dark Arts position beginning in September," said Dumbledore, gravely.

"This time, I'll be ready for her," said Harry, darkly, looking at the list. "I taught a quarter of the student body once, I'll certainly do it again—err… Ron?" Ron was staring at the first parchment in front of him, appearing to be in a state of shock. Hermione, meanwhile, had acted as if not a thing had happened. She smiled, folded the parchments and stuffed them back into the envelope. "Thank you, professor." The headmaster only inclined his head at the young witch.

"P-p-prefect," Ron finally managed. Bill snatched the parchment at once, having to see for himself. Harry had not mentioned this little part of the story, and only sat back, watching the 'drama' unfold.

On hearing the word escape Ron's mouth, Mrs. Weasley was on her feet, swooping around to envelop her son in one of her patented bone-crunching hugs. "I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"(2)

"Well done, Ron," spoke Bill, passing back the parchment. Ron tipped the envelope over, and a badge fell out of it. A large 'P' was emblazoned over top of the Gryffindor lion.

"But sir, why wasn't Harry chosen?"

"As much as professor McGonagall suggested it, I felt it would be best if Harry were not burdened with such responsibilities," answered Dumbledore.

"And he's right, Hermione. As much as it would help with the additional privileges and such, there are many responsibilities that come with it."

"Oh Ron, I'm so proud of you," Mrs. Weasley interjected again, "Just like Bill and Percy, you could end up Head Boy!" She placed one more kiss on Ron's forehead, then returned to her own table, although she still looked out of sorts.

"We'll need to make a trip to Diagon Alley for the new books, then," said Bill. There were nods about the table.

"I could probably use a few more owl treats for Hedwig, and I'm sure Mrs. Weasley will likely get something for Ron as a reward… she did last time," Harry thought aloud.

"She did?" Ron looked up from his breakfast.

"Yeah, of course!" Harry answered, then looked over at Matt. He looked… confused.

Matt had been floored by the contents of the letter, written in emerald ink. The top of the page was emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest—he'd seen it enough times as it was.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Tyson,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31__st__._

_Yours sincerely,_

(a signature was scrawled here)

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Indeed, attached, was a single page of parchment detailing items he would require, although it looked like a few items had been added. Still… wasn't he too old to attend?

"Professor," he finally questioned, "Thank you for the invitation… but aren't I too old?"

"What do you mean—" Harry stopped, finally realizing what Matt had received.

"I felt it appropriate he be invited, although you both understand, he will have much catching up to do," said Dumbledore. Harry only nodded at this point. Looking at the big picture, it did make sense.

"But still… how do you expect me to fit in? Harry might be able to just change his appearance, but…"

"Let me worry about that," answered Harry, "Either way, looks like our day is set then."

The trip to Diagon Alley that afternoon resulted in quite an entourage, for, although Dumbledore declined to accompany them, Snape was required to take Draco. Bill went along, as did Remus, the twins, Mrs. Weasley, and of course, Ron and Hermione. They made a day of it, with Harry helping Matt to get everything—he'd been required to pick up not just what would be required for fifth year, but a number of items from years one through four as well.

That evening, the rest of "Thrice Defied" were less-than-enthusiastic about Matt's enrolment at Hogwarts. Yet, with a single scowl from Harry, they knew better than to press it. Even if it did mean far less time working together as a band, they didn't have a right to tell him he couldn't… clearly, magic was now very much a part of Matt, and he most certainly had to learn how to use it properly and safely.

* * *

The morning of September 1 arrived clear and bright, not a cloud in the sky. The morning found Harry, Matt, and Bill atop the astronomy tower, as Dumbledore had at last given them permission to roam the castle freely. Harry had decided to not bother riding the Hogwarts Express, since he was already at the school as it was. Ron and Hermione, however, were expected to, since they were prefects, and would receive a brief training session on what was expected of them during the upcoming school year. In fact, all the other kids in the trunk were riding the Hogwarts Express, wanting to be with their friends, and reconnect after the summer.

Harry, however, chose this time to further reflect on the upcoming challenges that would most certainly present themselves sooner rather than later in the school year. Once again, Umbridge would be teaching Dark Arts Defence. Once again, Fudge was using his political clout to undermine warnings of the Dark Lord's return. How should he approach things this time?

This time it would be a little easier to move about, considering he wasn't a wanted criminal. Yet, he was still facing the same machine. Fudge was afraid for his job and his reputation, and he wouldn't give up without a dirty fight. People were going to get hurt, no matter what the outcome. Question was, how to minimize the damage.

The most pressing issue at the moment was how to get rid of Umbridge. Hell, even he himself would be willing to step in and teach, if it would prevent the foul woman from terrorizing his classmates. Perhaps, he thought, it might actually come down to that. After all, he most certainly COULD clone himself. It was a thought anyway…

Of course, the other question is, what happened to Slughorn? Dumbledore had said he was going to visit him and ask, right? So what happened? He would ask the headmaster later.

"A sickle for your thoughts," said Bill, shifting onto his good foot. His prosthetic was a good fit, but it still felt strange to him.

"Trying to decide how best to deal with Umbridge," answered Harry, turning around to face his boyfriends. "That woman can't be allowed to get away with what she did the first time around. I won't have Colin's brother permanently disfigured because of something he believes in. Or anyone else for that matter. I'll take that blood quill of hers and shove it up her arse!"

"And you'll be promptly expelled," said Bill, "You know that." Harry only nodded. Of course he was right. The woman had the ear of the minister, after all. "Thing is, I won't just stand back and do nothing. There'll be a point where enough is enough. Dark Arts Defence is a core subject, as much as Potions is."

"We'll want to do something before she becomes High Inquisitor though," Bill noted, "With that kind of power, we'd not get rid of her."

"I know," said Harry, "She could make the rules as she went along, pretty much. From that point, she practically ran the school."

"Speaking of school, Harry. You need to revert to your younger appearance," Bill reminded.

"And you were going to do something to me as well," Matt added. Harry nodded, and gestured first to himself, reverting to his fifteen-year-old self. Bill frowned at this, having become used to his older appearance, yet, it wouldn't do for Harry to show up looking like a twenty-seven year old.

"I know, it doesn't feel right to me either," said Harry, seeing the expression on Bill's face. He turned to Matt, and gestured with a hand. It felt as if warm water had been dumped on his head.

"Have a look." Harry conjured up a full-length mirror, and Matt was surprised at the reflection.

He had lost a few inches of height, but most of all, his face had changed a fair bit, better reflecting someone who was fifteen, rather than twenty-six. His piercings were still there, as was his tattoo, to which he was thankful… he wasn't sure if he would have been able to handle looking that… pure.

"Thanks."

"It should do nicely. To anyone not in the know, you're a fifteen year old who's come into his magic late."

The day was spent with Harry giving Matt a brief tour of the castle, including a covert trip into the Chamber of Secrets. Matt had asked on more then one occasion about Harry's battle with the basilisk, and Harry was at last able to show him. The corpse was still there, and hadn't changed a bit, even after it had been harvested for the most part much earlier in the summer. Matt looked rather unsteady on his feet, as he gaped at the immense creature. Even Bill was somewhat floored by the implications of such a beast.

"But why? Why would something like this be kept here?" Matt questioned.

"I don't know," answered Harry, "I guess… Dumbledore couldn't have known. The school's a thousand years old, and contains many secrets. Let's get back upstairs."

The trio spent the last hour before the train arrived in Hogsmeade, making one final stop at the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers.

"So you'll be in the school as well, then?" questioned Matt, gesturing to Bill.

"That's the plan. I'll be providing security, as will a few other members of the Order. Dumbledore would have liked to have Aurors present, but—" said Bill.

"We know where the ministry stands," Harry finished. Just then, a silvery phoenix took shape beside their table, and Dumbledore's voice inquired, "Where might you be, Harry? We'd like to send Draco along." It vanished.

"Right." Harry drew his wand, intoning, "Expecto Patronum." His stag materialized, but quickly vanished.

"Still find that amazing you can do that sort of thing," said Matt.

"You'll learn how to do that someday too," said Harry, "You're learning quickly."

"Sometimes, it feels like it's happening so slowly."

"From your perspective, and I know exactly how you feel. But trust me, you've picked up material that took me several years to understand."

"Could be because he now shares your blood," Bill suggested with a shrug. Harry nodded, saying, "Yeah, likely." Just then, there was slight blur right beside their table, and Draco appeared, looking slightly out of sorts. Harry offered a hand up, but Draco shook his head, climbing to his feet on his own. "Bloody port keys…" he muttered, dusting the invisible dust off his robes. Harry smirked inwardly. 'Gods forbid, the prince of Slytherin look out of sorts!'

"We'd best get going, if we're to be at the station when the train gets here," said Bill.

The walk up to the train station passed in silence. Although they had declared a truce between them, the relationship between Harry and Draco was still not exactly friendly, and still resulted in tension. At the same time, Harry most certainly respected the blond, as he definitely had character, deep inside him. It was just a matter of pulling it to the surface. The boy had already come a long way from the prick he knew the previous year. It would be interesting to see what kind of dynamic would play out in his house, with the new Draco Malfoy. That said, his offer still stood: if things got to be too much, Harry would protect him. It was the right thing to do, after all.

Not long after they arrived, the scarlet train pulled into the station, with dusk just settling. Within moments, the platform was filled with noisy students. Harry, Matt, and Bill were quickly joined by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

"First-years, line up over here, please!" Professor Grubbly-Plank called out, lantern swinging high in the air, "All first-years to me!" Harry remembered the witch who had temporarily taken over Care of Magical Creatures during his fifth year the first time around.

The group moved along with the rest of the crowd of students, some of which greeted Harry enthusiastically, while others gave him looks of distain. No question, much like last time, a lot of people so quickly believed the trash published in the Daily Prophet, without first questioning the source of the information. 'Sheeple', Harry thought to himself, as he climbed aboard one of the carriages. Matt and Bill quickly joined him, leaving room for only one more, and that was quickly taken by Luna.

"We'll get the next one," said Ron, and both he and Hermione took the carriage directly behind—Ginny had held a spot for them. Harry grimaced, seeing the creatures pulling the carriage behind them—thestrals. Luna, meanwhile, was digging in her school bag. She pulled out a large magazine of sorts, which Harry already knew to be the Quibbler. He made a note to start feeding them stories as well—they had been most helpful the first time around, so why not this time?

The great hall was every bit as magical as the last time he had remembered, what was truly ten years ago to him. The enchanted ceiling was perfectly duplicating the cloudless night sky outside, while hundreds of floating candles bathed the room in a warm glow. He was home again.

At the same time, he knew it would be no cake walk. As sure as the toad-like woman who now sat beside the headmaster at the head table, speaking into his ear. She wore a pink cardigan that just screamed 'look at me!'—it clashed horribly with the rest of the staff. Even Dumbledore's robes were in better taste than that.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back to see Bill, gesturing to the back door. That was where he would stand for the remainder of the feast, while another Order member took up position on the other side. Tonks, Harry quickly recognized, as he turned back and made his way over to the Gryffindor table. However, the group of friends did not sit at their usual location. Harry decided to sit at the end of the table closest to the head table, with him sitting with his back to the wall. This gave him a clear line of sight to the dais and the podium. Umbridge would likely want her fifteen minutes of fame in front of the student body, so why not help her along a little?

Shortly after, professor McGonagall led that year's crop of first years up the middle of the hall, and had them line up in front of the dais. She produced the familiar stool on the platform, placed what looked like a well-worn hat upon it, then stood back. A moments' pause followed, then the hat seemed to come to life, a tear near the hat's brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing:

"_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted_…"(3) Harry effectively tuned out the sorting hat's song at this point, having heard it before (although under cover of his invisibility cloak at the time, since he was not supposed to be there). The challenge before him was truly daunting, to say the least. Voldemort was most certainly a threat, as that morning's dream had so reminded him. Yet, not nearly as big a threat as a corrupt ministry, which was exactly what they had at this point. The fact Umbridge now sat at the head table was proof enough.

A loud burst of applause around him drew him out of his thoughts. The sorting had begun.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned, "You all right?"

"Fine… fine… who was it?"

"Euan Abercrombie," Hermione answered, as the small first year chose then to sit in the spot Harry wanted to keep open. He mentally cursed himself, but smiled. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

"Thanks," the boy answered shyly, although he looked like he wanted to crawl under the table.

The sorting continued, with the deputy headmistress calling students forward, until…

"Tyson, Matthew."

"What?" Matt was shocked at being called forward.

"Go on, it's tradition!" said Hermione, while McGonagall explained, "Mr. Tyson has just come into his magical abilities, and will begin his formal education, although a bit late." Matt at last stood up, and made his way over to the dais. He could feel the eyes of the entire room on him as he took a seat, rather awkwardly, on the small stool. It was meant for someone much smaller, after all. McGonagall placed the hat on his head, and a voice instantly filled his head, "_Well, well… Mr. Potter continues to amaze me,_" it spoke.

"Sorry?"

"_Oh come off it, I know EXACTLY where you got your abilities from… now let's sort you…_"

"How… I just… as long as I can help Harry."

"_A strong sense of loyalty there, Mr. Tyson, but no, Hufflepuff is not a fit… but much courage, more than enough to help your friend… I daresay much closer than that. I wish you luck in…_" and the hat proclaimed for the entire hall to hear, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The applause from the table of lions was deafening, as Matt passed the hat back to McGonagall, and reclaimed his seat beside Harry. He got more than a few words of welcome, and a few hand-shakes from those close, while Harry only clapped him on the back. He'd forgotten about Matt needing to be sorted, but that was a tradition, after all. Any student attending Hogwarts HAD to be sorted into one of the four houses.

The names continued to dwindle, until at last, "Zeller, Rose" landed in Hufflepuff. Once McGonagall collected hat and stool, the headmaster rose and took his place at the podium. A few simple words and the feast began, the noise level in the hall quickly rising to meet the clatter of cutlery and china.

Half way through the meal, Hermione looked momentarily startled, looked down at her lap, and collected something. A second later, Harry felt her prod his knee, and when he reached down, a small piece of parchment was stuffed into his hand. He discreetly opened it. It read:

_Operation Pink Toad has commenced - FW + GW_

Harry grinned. It looked like he wouldn't need to do anything to toad face after all… the twins more than had it covered. He silently passed the note back to Hermione, who also read it, and her face said it all: she didn't exactly approve. Ron, meanwhile only grinned in between bites. Oh yes, the twins could get VERY creative with their pranking, particularly when a victim absolutely deserved it. With Umbridge, it was open season.

The meal was rapidly winding down, with the noise level in the room starting to rise once again, Dumbledore again took to the podium. Harry again tuned out his speech for the most part, until it came to the staffing changes, or what he thought…

"Last year saw a most disturbing event unfold during the Tri-wizard tournament, which almost resulted in the death of two of our students. There are some who believe it was the work of Voldemort. Others, do not. That said, questions have been raised by a number of individuals including concerned parents, as to whether this is the safest place for children. For now, we will not delve into that argument, but rather to recognize there is an external threat to the security here at Hogwarts. As such, adjustments have been made to ensure the safety of all who work and study here.

"You will have noted a number of new faces among us who are not students. They are here to provide extra security and so, should you notice anything strange or suspicious, either within or outside the castle, do not hesitate to speak to one of them, or a teacher.

"The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened, and a number of new ones have been added, all of which designed to give all of you the best protection we can offer." Dumbledore paused a moment, his eyes sweeping across the room, and he smiled again. "Equally important, we have two staffing changes this year. We are pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will for the interim, be taking over Care of Magical Creatures lessons; We are equally delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a polite round of applause. Dumbledore continued, "Lastly, Tryouts for the—" he broke off, casting a questioning look at professor Umbridge. Of course, there was confusion just as there was the first time around from Harry's perspective, as everyone wondered why the headmaster had stopped speaking. Then, professor Umbridge cleared her throat, "Hem hem," making Harry want to gag. He HATED the woman, there was no question.

Dumbledore never missed a beat, having already expected this interruption, but sat down, allowing the squat witch to take over at the podium. Several other professors, including Snape and McGonagall were already aware of this, so they were by no means surprised. The other professors, on the other hand, were rather shocked someone would dare interrupt the headmaster.

"Thank you, Headmaster," the toad simpered, "For those kind words of welcome." That high-pitched, girly voice she used was grating on Harry. This was the same woman who first time around had snapped his wand. The same woman who had tortured a quarter of the school with a blood quill. She would answer for those crimes one day. She again cleared her throat ("Hem, hem"), continuing, "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, and I must say!" she smiled, revealing very pointed teeth (somewhat reminding Harry of the goblins), "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

"Not bloody likely," Harry whispered, while the professor carried on, droning on about the ministry and how much it valued the education of young witches and wizards ('Interfered, more likely,' Harry thought to himself).

While she rambled on, a good number of students were already whispering among themselves, exactly as they had the first time around. Luna had even dug out her copy of the Quibbler.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task…" Umbridge did not notice it yet, but others had: her pink cardigan had changed colour, not to be just pink, but violently fluorescent pink. So had her shoes… and her hair… the rest of her clothes… and her skin! In fact, the witch was finally forced to stop speaking, wondering what was wrong, as the entire hall was snickering and giggling at her outrageous appearance. She looked at the headmaster questioningly, who only conjured up a floor-length mirror. Umbridge caught her reflection in it, and promptly fainted.

"A most enlightening speech, most unfortunate she could not continue," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, as he banished the mirror, and continued where he left off, not even bothering to revive their new Dark Arts Defence professor. Harry looked up at the staff table, and could have sworn he saw Snape smirking. Even McGonagall looked somewhat like a cat who had caught the canary.

Harry collected Bill who was waiting at the entrance, and they wasted no time catching up to his friends, who were almost up to the dormitory.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia!" he heard Hermione say, and the portrait swung open. The group of Gryffindors quickly climbed through the hole, into the common room. Of course, as soon as Harry stepped into the room, it fell silent, as all eyes fell on him. He sighed, and ignored the silent stares, quickly locating Fred and George. "Guys… you have the new door?"

"Of course," answered George.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were already decorating their part of the dormitory with pictures and posters when Harry, Matt, Bill and the twins entered. Both had stopped talking when the five of them entered.

"Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Thomas," said Bill, inclining his head. The two boys nodded in return, with Seamus returning to what he was doing.

"Hi Harry," spoke Dean, "Good holiday?"

"Quite, all told I suppose," answered Harry, "Better than usual. You?"

"It was okay," chuckled Dean, "Better than Seamus's, anyway, he was just telling me."

"What happened?" questioned Fred, sitting on his younger brother's bed—his trunk was already resting at the foot of it, as was Harry's trunk at the foot of his own.

Seamus didn't answer right away, seeming to be preoccupied with getting a particular poster just right. Finally, with his back still to the others, he said, "Me mam didn't want me to come back."

"What?" questioned Harry, taking a seat on his bed. He wasn't changing since he was going back out of the dormitory shortly as it was.

"She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

"But—why?" questioned Harry, astonished. 'Why would his mum do that?' he questioned. Yet, it came to him before Seamus could answer. Of course, the Prophet.

"Well," he answered, in a careful voice, "I suppose… because of you."

"Now that's a load of dragon shit," Bill declared, standing by the doors into the showers, his arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

"What do you mean?" questioned Harry, feeling his anger start to rise, his heart starting to race. He should've expected this. The silent stares in the common room were proof enough.

"Well," said Seamus again, still avoiding Harry's eye, "She… err… well, it's not just you, it's Dumbledore too…"

"She believes the bloody Daily Prophet?" questioned Harry, darkly, "She thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore's barking mad? Is that it?" Seamus only looked up at him, answering, "Yeah, something like that."

"Then perhaps, Mr. Finnigan, if that's what you truly believe, maybe it's best you not be here. Harry doesn't need that kind of attitude around him now nor ever," said Bill, coldly. Harry at this point said nothing. His roommates' actions effectively sealed it: he would not spend a night here. Knowing Ron, neither would he, particularly considering both he and Hermione had their own set of rooms in the trunk. He stood up, making the decision to deal with the door into the trunk, when Seamus spoke, "Look… what did happen that night… you know, when you and Cedric were almost killed?" He sounded both nervous and eager at the same time. Dean too, had fell silent, both boys wanting answers.

Harry answered before he thought, snapping, "Why are you asking me for? Just read the Daily Prophet like your mother, why don't you? That'll tell you all you need to know!"

"DON'T you have a go at my mother," Seamus snapped.

"I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar," Harry shot back, his eyes becoming ice chips. The temperature of the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you how I want," Harry hissed.

"BOTH of you, enough," said Bill, raising his voice. Matt's right hand was twitching, as if he was only a twitch away from producing his wand.

"What's going on?" Ron questioned, stepping into the dormitory. He looked at Harry, then at his brothers, then over to Seamus and Dean. Harry was a hair away from cursing someone, he only needed to look at the ice chips for eyes. Seamus had both fists clenched, appearing about ready to deck someone. Fred and George looked absolutely furious. This could get very ugly, very fast.

"He's having a go at my mother," Seamus yelled.

"What?" questioned Ron, "Harry wouldn't do that—we met your mother, we liked her…"

"That's before she started believing every word the fucking Daily Prophet writes about me!" Harry roared. Several loose items were vibrating at this point—the room was a powder keg which needed only a spark to go off. Bill crossed the room and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, offering support. It seemed to ease the tension slightly.

"Oh… I get it," said Ron, understanding at once.

"He's mad! I don't think I want to share a dormitory with him!" Seamus declared.

"That's out of order, Seamus," said Ron, his ears starting to glow red. Just as dangerous as the ice chips Harry now had for eyes.

"Out of order, am I?" shouted Seamus, who in contrast with Ron was going pale, "You believe all the rubbish he's come out with about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he's telling the truth?"

"Yeah, I do!" Ron answered, angrily.

"Then you're mad too! And so are you, and you, the lot of you!" Seamus erupted, gesturing wildly at Ron and his brothers.

"Is that so? Well, unfortunately for you, moron, I'm also a prefect!" said Ron, shoving Seamus against the bed post, "So unless you want detention, watch your mouth!" Seamus opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He instead ducked away from Ron, threw himself into his bed and snapped the curtains shut.

"Right then. Anyone else has a problem with Harry?" Ron crackled. Dean only shook his head.

"Now that's sorted, let's just deal with the door," said Bill.

"I won't be spending a night here," Harry decided, "I'd rather have my friends around me."

"Then neither will I," said Ron, with a slight smirk.

"Good riddance," everyone heard Seamus mutter.

"Gran says that's all rubbish." Everyone turned to see Neville standing in the doorway to the bathroom, arms crossed, a toothbrush in one hand. "She says it's the Daily Prophet going downhill, not Dumbledore. We believe Harry," he continued, "My gran's always said You-Know-Who would come back one day. If Dumbledore believes it, she believes it."

The room fell silent as George re-enlarged one of the doors he had placed in his pocket, then stood it beside the entrance to the washroom. A gesture from his wand and it popped into place, as if it had always been there.

"What's that for?" questioned Dean.

"It leads to where I've been most of the summer, somewhere a lot less hostile then the dormitory is right now."

"We'll need to set it so it only accepts people keyed into the trunk's wards," said Bill, gesturing at it with his wand. It glowed red for a moment.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"We've still got some improvements in mind for this," said Fred, as he opened the door, and stepped through. His twin and his older brother quickly followed. Ron left through the regular door, likely to get Hermione.

"Good night, Dean, Neville," said Harry, as he and Matt stepped through, and closed the door behind them.

Dean only watched as the door closed. Truly awesome magic was at work. It looked like a portal of some kind. Curiosity got the better of him, and the boy tried the handle. He was not surprised to find it locked; they had indeed sealed it against unauthorized access.

Meanwhile, when Harry stepped back into the common room of the trunk, he found Dumbledore waiting. "Professor?"

"If I might have a word, Harry."

"Of course."

"Did something happen?" questioned Matt.

"You might say that," answered Dumbledore, as the three of them headed to the study. "Harry, you are aware there are certain spells and enchantments which get cast on the castle at the start of term, correct?"

"Some, yeah."

"One of those enchantments was not activated. You haven't been manipulating the wards?"

"No, of course not! Sir, I gave you my word."

"What sort of wards?" Matt asked.

"One of them is a sort of time-displacement field, in essence used to create a 'clean-slate' of sorts, forcing the time table to begin on a Sunday."

"I had always wondered about that, professor," said Harry.

"You mean you can just… change the day of the week at will?" Matt looked confused.

"Very powerful magic, Matthew. Ancient magic, reaching back nearly to the time of the founders," Dumbledore explained, "It's been in use for centuries in its present form. At least until now."

"Professor, will it truly matter that we aren't starting the term on a Sunday?"

"I suppose not, other than tradition."

"Sounds a little barmy in my opinion," Matt threw in, "Why not just adapt the start date, rather than messing about with time?"

"Matt… you keep forgetting, the magical world does things differently."

"That we do," Dumbledore added, "Yet, there still remains the mystery as to why that particular enchantment failed to work. It does concern me, considering there are far more important enchantments which absolutely must work if called upon." Harry only nodded, saying, "I understand. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, my boy, I just needed to be sure you weren't involved, seeing as you do still have partial control of the wards."

"I'm not depriving you of control, I hope… not that I'd have any clue about what to do if that were the case."

"It appears as though we share joint control," answered Dumbledore, "Once again I do remind you not to go about manipulating things without consulting me first."

"I'll do that."

"Thank you. And before I forget, twenty points to Gryffindor, for that fine display at the welcoming feast."

"Thank you professor, but that wasn't my doing. You have the right house, not the perpetrators," Harry grinned.

"Ah," the headmaster answered, his eyes twinkling madly. Oh yes, if it wasn't Harry, he knew EXACTLY who was responsible. Perhaps this would be a most entertaining year.

While Harry went off to spend time with Matt, and likely Bill later, Dumbledore used the floo to travel back to his office, and from there, called for a meeting of all professors in the staff room in a half-hour's time. As it looked like the temporal displacement charm wouldn't be activated anytime soon, something would have to be done about the schedule. Instead of planning for lessons the following day, it looked like the students would be getting an additional two days to prepare for the upcoming term.

Professor Sprout was quick to capitalize on the opportunity.

"Albus, since the students will have an additional two days, how about having the prefects lead the new first years on tours of the castle?"

"It would certainly curtail the number of late students as a result of them becoming lost," Flitwick threw in.

"Minerva? Your thoughts on this?" Dumbledore prodded.

"I've always in some ways felt we weren't doing enough for new students," spoke the Gryffindor head of house, "I have to agree with Filius and Pomona, this is an unexpected yet wonderful opportunity. We would be fools not to take advantage."

"I must ask, Dumbledore, what do you plan on doing to correct this situation so it will not repeat?" questioned the new Dark Arts Defence professor.

"I am taking the situation very seriously, Delores," answered Dumbledore, "Indeed, although its meaning for us is rather minor, it could suggest a wider threat."

"A threat from whom?"

"I think you know, Delores. That's an argument for another day. In the meantime, I am starting an investigation into what may have caused this anomaly with the intention of preventing it from occurring again."

"Albus, if the idea of a couple days' extra before start of term goes over well, it might be in our better interest to continue it," suggested McGonagall.

"Perhaps."

"And throw away nearly five hundred years of tradition?" Umbridge queried, in her sickeningly sweet, girly voice.

"That still remains to be seen," answered Dumbledore.

"As you so pointed out in your abbreviated address at the welcoming feast, 'without progress there will be stagnation and decay'(4)?" McGonagall reminded the squat witch, and got an icy glare in return.

"Yes, but…"

"As headmaster, it does fall under my discretion."

"For now, we are all in agreement then?" questioned McGonagall. There were nods of agreement from the other three heads of house, Snape doing so begrudgingly.

"Minerva, Pomona, Filius, and Severus, I'll leave it to you, then, inform the prefects of the change, preferably tonight," the headmaster decided.

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning before Harry and his boyfriends got off to bed, with Jiro, Zachariah, and the twins once again hosting some sort of party in Jiro's apartment. Billy had taken to spending time between Jiro's and the band's studio, and that had certainly quashed any concerns Harry had about Billy being happy there. Lucas and his family were also adjusting to the new arrangement, although somewhat less happy about it than Billy. Harry had still not come up with a solution for adding additional rooms. It was that thought which at last spirited him off to sleep.

_Harry felt… cold. His vision cleared, and he quickly understood why: he'd been here before. It looked like Cypress, just north of Vancouver—he'd been practically dragged there by his Canadian friends the first time around, years into the future. The day had been a blast to say the least, although nothing like flying a broom. Yet, skiing was something he'd do again if he could._

_He couldn't be certain, however, as it was past dark, the slope lit by powerful lights. The place was crowded to say the least—perhaps some sort of competition was under way—or was it just finishing? Three men had taken to some sort of raised platform, with two of them waving to the crowd, skis in hand. Definitely a competition, clearly over. Why was he here? Never mind that, the air was almost electric with the amount of magical energy that seemed to flow here. It somewhat reminded him of the energy around Hogwarts. This was a Muggle area though! Again, what was he here for?_

_The answer came all too quickly, as the three men remained on what he realized was a podium, waving to the crowd. The magical energy suddenly spiked, giving Harry a strong bout of vertigo. He fought to stay on his feet, as the high-intensity lights illuminating the course began popping, one by one, sending off showers of sparks. The lights had also gone out in the buildings which surrounded the course, and the crowd now became uneasy and nervous. What was happening?_

_Then, he felt it, rather than saw it. Something was flying down the side of the mountain. The energy felt dark, to put it mildly. No, it was beyond dark, Harry rephrased in his mind. This energy was unearthly, and spoke nothing but death and destruction, for the simple reason it could do so._

_A raised platform about a third of the way up the course was the first indicator of its power, as it seemingly and inexplicably exploded in all directions, along with the people and equipment on top of and around it. The other platforms, along with the structure at the top of the course followed suit a fraction of a second later, with the building directly behind the crowd a second after that._

_Harry's initial thought pinned this incident on Voldemort. This was exactly what he had been like, the first time around. But there had not been an incident HERE. No. this was not Voldemort. It was something worse, if that were truly possible._

_The three athletes hadn't moved, although security were making a fast track through the barrier. He felt his legs carry him to the raised platform, as he was somewhat numb by what he was seeing. The trees alongside the course had suddenly burst into flames, while the sky had taken on an angry orange shade, bathing the ground in its cruel glow. Hell had come to Cypress._

_He had just reached the back of the podium, when he felt tremendous heat at his back… and with it, the most god-awful laughter he could imagine._

Harry woke with a start, his heart thumping madly in his chest.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So a good portion of this chapter has been pulled from the previous incarnation of "Temporal Boundary Invasions", with a few alterations to make it work here._

_September 1__st__ always falling on a Monday? Not in here it doesn't! *smirks* Cookies to the one who might guess why!_

_Draco is not a prefect, because he would be ineffective, and Snape would want someone who had some pull in the house. Remember, Draco's lost a ton of credibility—and that will come into play pretty quickly._

_(1) Mixed and released by Dustwave in 2005._

_(2) __Taken from p. 149, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition._

_(3) __Taken from p. 184, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian Soft-cover Version._

_(4) Taken from p. 192, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover version._


	30. Harry vs the Toad

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ cedric dursley, zutarakid50, Thenchick, and StoryTagger. __Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted May 5, 2010_

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXIX-  
HARRY VS THE TOAD**

**Or, Umbridge still manages to enrage Harry**

**

* * *

**"Harry? What's wrong?" questioned Bill, as Harry sat up, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Weird dream. It's… its' okay, just startled."

"What did you see?"

"I'll tell you in the morning."

"And I'll hold you to it. No need of you keeping that sort of thing to yourself, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

"Yeah, I know."

As promised, Harry related the odd dream to both Bill and Matt as they had breakfast mid-morning. It was an odd feeling to Harry, not having to be up and about so quickly the morning following the welcoming feast.

Both Hermione and Ron had already left the trunk, as both were prefects and would be expected to help lead Gryffindor first-years on a tour of the castle.

"Have you seen the location in your dream before, Harry?" questioned Bill.

"Yeah, once. When I was staying in Vancouver, the guys I was staying with practically dragged me up there. One of them was into… what did he call it? Moguls? Right, that was it, some sort of skiing thing, riding over… well, bumps in the snow. The other liked snowboarding. I think I prefer my broom to either of them," Harry explained, "Although I would certainly try both again."

"Snow… boarding?" questioned Billy, as he polished off the last bit of bacon. The plate vanished with a slight pop.

"I'll have to show you the memory of it sometime," answered Harry, shaking his head, "Almost impossible to explain."

"D'you think what you saw in your dream… might happen?"

"Gods, I hope not," Harry snorted, "As if I don't have enough on my plate as it is." Billy only nodded, and took a swig of his coffee.

"Harry… the guys want to work on our new material today… since I won't have a lot of free time during the week—"

"No, it's fine, Matt. Go be with your friends," answered Harry.

"Not just this minute, but, just letting you know."

"And the twins and… Jiro… they like my help downstairs," said Billy.

"Good, they'll keep you out of trouble," Harry smirked.

"As if," Bill snorted, "Don't trust anything edible from my brothers, Merlin knows what trouble they can cause."

With breakfast over with, Harry got cleaned up, then did exactly as he had done the previous afternoon, taking to the air on his Firebolt. The castle was an awesome sight from the ground, but it was truly magnificent from the air. Sure, he'd gotten a brief look at it in fourth year, but he had also been chased by a rather irate Hungarian Horntail—there wasn't exactly time to enjoy the view, after all!

That morning, he spent several hours just flying gently about the grounds, flying as far as the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and to the opposite side of the Black Lake, the boundaries of the wards. As Dumbledore had said at the welcoming feast, the wards had indeed been strengthened, and it would be near impossible for Voldemort or his Death Eaters to set foot inside it… at least not with 'complications'. How was it Snape wasn't affected by them? Perhaps a question to ask the man.

Several hours later, he had to smile, seeing Ron leading the group of first-years down to the Quidditch pitch. Hermione was following along, somewhat reluctantly, by the looks of it. Of course, how long would Hermione want to spend in the library? He smirked again at that thought.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, at last spotting his friend.

"Hi guys." Harry landed softly, and dismounted.

"Is that really… a Firebolt?!" One of the first-years exclaimed.

"Yeah, it is, Harry being the best seeker in a century and all," Ron bragged, before Harry could open his mouth.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, while Harry only grinned. "A gift from my godfather, actually."

"You escaped from the dragon on it in the tournament!" another piped up.

"Did you really… fight y-y-you know who?" questioned another, uneasily.

"Yeah, I did. And don't fear his name. As a dear friend once told me, fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself."(1) That got a smile from Hermione.

"Daddy says You-Know-Who is back… the ministry's trying to keep it quiet, but people know… there are people who know," said a third.

"And that's exactly what needs to happen. The professors would probably say you guys are too young to hear this, but I think it still needs to be said. A war is coming, whether we like it or not. The ministry's only making matters worse, keeping Tom Riddle's return quiet."

"Tom Riddle?" questioned one of the students.

"That's Voldemort's real name. If you can't say 'Voldemort', call him Tom. He's not even a pure-blood, believe it or not." That got looks of surprise from some of them, looks of confusion from others. Harry picked up on that right away. "How many of you have non-magical parents?" About a third of the hands went up. "In the Wizarding world, you'll find some people are… just downright racist, and it's all about blood. In reality, it's a load of codswallop, as a very large friend of mine would put it. Hermione here's one of the brightest witches in my year, and her parents are non-magical. Yet, I know of two pure-blood wizards who… well… they're—"

"Thick as bricks?" Ron threw in.

"Exactly. So the point is, it really doesn't matter in the end."

"So we should just forget about our heritage, that it?" questioned another boy, with a frown.

"No, no that's not what I mean," answered Harry, quickly, wanting to put out a potential fire. "My point is, someone's ancestry has no affect on what kind of witch or wizard they will become. Sure, the pureblood supremacists out there would want you to believe otherwise, but like I said, it's dragon shit. If Voldemort had his way, we would breed ourselves out of existence in a hundred years or so." They had arrived at the Quidditch pitch, and Harry remounted his broom. "Just a few things to think about." He lifted off into the air. "All of you, remember that one thing. No matter where we come from, we've all been given an amazing gift. Who are we to say someone can't practice magic, just because of their ancestry?" He zoomed off, leaving the group to ponder his words.

* * *

The weekend was over far too quickly for Harry's taste, and before he knew it, McGonagall was handing out timetables at breakfast Monday morning. An owl had delivered a copy of the Daily Prophet to Hermione, he remembered her answer from last time: _'It's best to know what the enemy is saying,'(2) _she had explained, much later when they could talk in private. Now as well as then, Harry agreed with her. It only made sense. He looked at the timetable, just as Ron groaned, "Look at today! History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defence Against the Dark Arts… Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day!"

"Hmm, it'll be interesting to see how Snape behaves with our… arrangement," Harry mused, while Ron prattled on about the injustice of it all.

"Did mine ears deceive me?" questioned Fred, as both he and his twin seemed to materialize behind them, "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we got for today," Ron moaned, holding his timetable up, "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," Fred agreed, scanning the column, "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Fred, George! Don't encourage him!" Hermione huffed, while Harry only grinned. 'Just like last time,' he smirked to himself, as the discussion continued.

"You mean, they made things that make people purposely sick?" questioned Matt, with an ear to the conversation.

"Absolutely," said Harry, with a smirk, "I've been somewhat of a guinea pig for their 'experiments' before."

"Pass," said Matt, with a snort.

"You know what they're like, mate," Harry answered.(3)

During History of Magic, rather than try to focus on what the ghost of a professor was attempting to 'lecture' about—something about giant wars—Harry decided to use the time to continue tutoring Matt in lower year subjects. It was unlikely he would actually sit for his OWLs in June, but all the same, he was already progressing quite well, having already learned a good portion of the basics that would have been covered during first and second year.

Given that History of Magic was theory only, Harry continued to focus on exactly that, the theory of magic and its applications. He could tutor him in the practical application later on, or tomorrow—likely tomorrow, come to think of it. Charms and Transfiguration were much more 'hands-on', and as long as Harry could demonstrate he knew what he was doing, he would be able to work independently with Matt.

Potions, was another matter altogether. As he somewhat expected, Snape retained the same hostile demeanour he had always carried toward Harry and his friends. After reminding them it was their OWL year, he set them to work brewing a potion they would quite possibly see during the exam: the Draught of Peace. Harry had certainly made this potion on more than a few occasions, and he wracked his brain for the memory.

"You want me to get us the ingredients?" Matt offered. Harry nodded, already setting up the cauldron.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape. There were ten minutes left before the bell. Harry cursed under his breath. There was definitely vapour coming off the potion, but it wasn't silver. It actually resembled tar! He wracked his brain as to what he'd done wrong, but—

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?" Snape spoke, a nasty smirk on his face.

"Draught of peace, sir," Harry answered. Matt shifted on his feet, while the Slytherins were all smirking at the exchange.

"Harry… we stirred it five times counter-clockwise," Matt said, rechecking the instructions on the board.

"I know you did," said Snape, nastily, "Which means this mess is absolutely useless. _Evanesco_."(4)

"No more useless than the mess the pair over there have made," Matt rebutted, pointing to the cauldrons of Crabbe and Goyle.

"And that'll be a point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Tyson," said Snape, with a nasty smile. Matt scowled at Snape, but remained silent, getting a squeeze on the arm from Harry. "Those of you who HAVE managed to read the instructions, fill a flagon with a sample of your potion, clearly label it with your name, and leave it on my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

"I thought you were exaggerating, Harry," said Matt, as they sat down to lunch in the Great Hall.

"No, he truly is a git," Ron muttered, as he and Hermione quickly caught up to them.

"Somehow I didn't think he'd change his demeanour in class, he's got appearances to keep," said Harry, darkly, while everyone helped themselves to the shepherd's pie. As it had been last time, the ceiling had turned an ominous grey, as if it would open up any second and drench everyone with a deluge of rain. He ate quietly, still frustrated at the fact he had received a zero in Potions. What's more, he had made that particular potion numerous times before, so why had he managed to stuff it up in class?!

Divination, Harry decided, would be treated exactly like History of Magic. Although, he realized, Trelawney would most likely not appreciate that kind of attitude. All the same, Divination was one of those subjects he just didn't wish to waste further time on. Why had he signed up for such a lame subject in the first place? Oh right, Ron. Instead of taking something useful, like Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, he had chosen something easy, something that would be a cake-walk—something that would be an easy OWL.

Now that decision was coming back to bite him in the arse, and it had taken eleven years for him to realize it. He loved Ron like a brother but sometimes…

"Good-day," spoke Professor Trelawney, as she swept into the classroom. Matt eyed her for a moment, then said to Harry, "This woman's smoked a lot of something, I think."

"Matt…"

"And what do we have… a new student?" spoke the professor, dreamily, swooping in and giving Matt the critical eye. If she'd heard his comment, she did not show it. "I was not informed…"

"Forgive me, professor," Harry spoke up, "But he's come into his magic late, and I'm helping teach him the lower years' material."

"I see," spoke the professor, blinking through glasses that seemed to magnify her eyes to resemble a bug. At least that's what Matt thought.

"Very well…" she continued to appraise the new student, "You have an interest in Divination, dear?"

"Erm… yeah…"

"I see…" She grasped one of Matt's hands, startling him in the process, but held it firm, studying the fine lines. "I will not have individuals wasting my time, insulting the ancient art I teach here… your hands, they tell me all I should know…" The class was already sniggering, remembering all-too-well the confrontation between the professor and Hermione the previous fall.

"Fine," Matt snapped, yanking his hand out of the batty professor's grip and leaping to his feet, "Harry… I'll—"

"If you're leaving, so am I," Harry decided, with Ron an instant third. Their leaving seemed to have little impact on the witch, who carried on as if nothing had happened, "You will find on the tables in front of you…"

"Ron… tell me again why you suggested we take that class in the first place?" the three of them had retreated first back to the dormitory, then into the trunk.

"Shouldn't you be in class, dear?" spoke Lily from the portrait above the fireplace.

"Should, but aren't," Harry snorted, then quickly related the short interaction between Matt and Trelawney.

"Either way, I'll take the extra free period. I might attempt to sit the OWL in the spring, or not."

"Ronald… what are you doing out of class?" questioned Molly, framing the door leading into the dining room.

"We've quit Divination," the youngest male Weasley announced, getting a most sour look from his mother.

"I'll take some of the blame for that, Mrs. Weasley," said Matt, "You guys sure she's a real seer or whatever?"

"She DID make two prophecies that came true," Harry reminded, "Still… reading cards and tea leaves aren't gonna help me kill Voldemort. I can use this time to help Matt. And I could use Ron's help," he added, seeing Molly about to get up a head of steam.

"He's right, mum."

"Your father and I will talk with you more on this later," Molly decided, then turned abruptly back to the kitchen.

All too quickly, they had to make their way to the Dark Arts Defence classroom. They actually arrived early, since they didn't have to climb down from the Divination tower. Harry felt his anger begin to rise, seeing Professor Umbridge already seated at her desk, scratching something on a parchment with a quill. She looked up as the three of them entered, giving them a sickly-sweet smile.

"Afternoon, Professor," said Matt, and got a jab in the side for doing so. Just then, Harry felt someone squeeze his shoulder, and looked back to find Bill standing behind him.

"Can I help you, Mr. Weasley?" questioned Umbridge.

"Headmaster's orders, ma'am," Bill answered, "I'm to, in his words, 'keep an eye on things during this period, considering… past Professors' attempts to murder Mr. Potter'. You, madam, are an unknown."

"I see. But surely you don't believe something untoward might happen here, in a school?"

"Professor, I don't know what to believe anymore," answered Harry, "And as Mr. Weasley just said, we don't know you. I thought I know Moody… he happened to be one of the best professors I've had… until he tried to murder me in what is now your office. My first year, I suffered a similar attack. So needless to say, I appreciate the extra vigilance on both the headmaster and Mr. Weasley's part."

"Yes, and we will be having a discussion about that when class begins," answered the professor, with one of her sickly-sweet smiles. It was taking everything Harry had to not throttle the witch right there and then.

"Great," he only answered, then to Matt and Ron, "Let's take our seats."

It seemed like only a few moments later, the remainder of the class arrived. Hermione quickly took a seat beside Ron, while the rest of the seats filled up, all rather quietly, since to most, Umbridge was an unknown.

The class began exactly as he remembered Ron explaining it did the first time around—Harry had been learning from Dumbledore during that period the first time, and so had no contact with Umbridge at Hogwarts whatsoever. He was still very much aware of the woman she truly was, through the eyes of his peers.

Yet, this time, she didn't immediately start them off reading, but continued, "As Mr. Potter has so kindly pointed out just before this class began, your previous instructors in this class have been erratic, irresponsible …"

"That's not what I said," Harry snapped.

"You will raise your hand when you wish to speak in my class, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge, coldly, then continued, "Not that I wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some unacceptable modes of teaching, extremely dangerous half-breeds—"

"If you mean Professor Lupin," Dean Thomas spoke up, angrily, "He was the best we ever—"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying—you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—" Hermione went to open her mouth to protest, but Ron covered her mouth with his hand, "—It is my understanding that my predecessor not only demonstrated illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."

"Yeah, insane, but we still learned a lot from it—never mind the fact he tried to KILL me!" Harry answered, hotly.

"Your HAND is not up, Mr. Potter," Umbridge admonished, "Now it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about."

Things went down hill from there. Even with both Ron and Matt trying to keep him from going overboard, Harry finally had enough.

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory's laying in a coma-like state of his own accord?" He hissed.

"What happened to Mr. Diggory is still under investigation, Mr. Potter," Umbridge simpered.

"It was attempted murder," Harry shot back, "I was there, you weren't!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge, coldly, "Tomorrow evening, Five o'clock. My office."

"No," said Harry, flatly.

"What?"

"I said, no, I won't be serving detention with you," said Harry, his voice not betraying the rage boiling just below the surface.

"Take a further ten points from Gryffindor, for such a refusal," Umbridge simpered, drawing a small roll of parchment from her handbag. She quickly scribbled something out and tapped it with her wand, most likely in an attempt to seal it so he couldn't read it. She waddled back over to Harry's desk, saying, "Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear."

"Fine. Matt…"

"And where might you be off to, Mr…"

"Tyson," answered Matt as he collected the book from the desk, but Harry cut in, saying, "He's new and I'm responsible for teaching him outside of class."

"And he is still IN my class, Mr. Potter, and as such doesn't have a dismissal."

"I don't think I need your permission to leave, Professor," answered Matt, coolly.

"And that'll be an additional ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Tyson." She seemed to pause for a moment, then simpered, "You will also be joining Mr. Potter in detention tomorrow evening, I think."

"If that's what you think," Harry huffed, shouldering his book bag, "Come on, let's go."(5)

"Harry, really, you shouldn't have provoked her," Bill spoke, as they made their way through the corridors to McGonagall's office.

"I know… but I couldn't help it. That woman did so much damage to the light side last time. I just can't stand by and let her have her way, say whatever she wants!"

"But doing this isn't helping either, Harry. It'll make it worse, not only for you, but those around you. Gods, you have to realize that."

"What'd she write anyway?" questioned Matt. Harry only shrugged, but tapped the scroll with a finger. Oddly, it wouldn't open.

"Hummph… of course she used a stronger charm." Harry drew his wand, tapping it again. This time, it opened.

_Professor McGonagall,_

_Mr. Potter has been dismissed early from class for disrupting it several times, which included calling me a liar and shouting at me. He is also insinuating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, statements which further disrupted the lesson. He will be sitting a week of detentions, starting tomorrow evening._

_Delores Umbridge_

"I won't be 'sitting a week's worth of detentions'," Harry snorted, very much tempted to incinerate the letter. No, it was better to show it to McGonagall.

"Harry, you have to show up, she'll take a bucket load of points off of Gryffindor if you don't."

"Bill… do I really give a flying FUCK about house points?!" Harry shouted. They had arrived at McGonagall's office, but he kept raging, "That woman has the nerve—"

The door to the office flew open, and Professor McGonagall emerged, looking grim and slightly harassed.

"Potter! What on earth are you—Mr. Weasley, Mr. Tyson…"

"I've been sent to see you," said Harry, holding out the letter. She read it over, her eyes glancing to the trio, then said, "Come in, the three of you."

Inside, she questioned, "Well, is this true?"

"Yes professor," answered Harry, somewhat subdued. In retrospect, he shouldn't have blown up as he had. Bill was right.

"You called her a liar?"

"Several times."

"You told her You-Know-Who is back?"

"Yes," answered Harry.

"Potter… you've told us all about how dangerous this woman is from your past experience. Why is it then, you choose to antagonize her?" She sat down behind her desk, and gestured to a tin resting on top of a stack of papers. "Have a biscuit."

"Thank you," said Matt, quickly accepting the offering.

"Have a what?"

"Here," said Matt, plucking a second biscuit from the tin, and pushing it into Harry's hand.

"Harry, I said on the way here, you have to keep yourself under control," Bill repeated.

"Sit down, the three of you," McGonagall directed, and as they did, she continued, "Yes, Mr. Weasley, you are entirely correct. The three of you need to be careful."

"I could… maybe take a calming draught before class," Harry mused, "As for the detentions, I won't be attending."

"Potter… you know you can't take that course of action," said McGonagall, pursing her lips. Her face relaxed slightly, as she said, "You might speak with Dumbledore about assigning your detention to another teacher." That got a grin from Harry. "If I could use your floo, Professor? And may I have that note?"

"Of course."

Only a minute later, they were repeating the incident to the headmaster, who listened silently seated behind his desk, his long fingers steeped in front of him. The note from Umbridge was rolled up on the desk before him.

"And you believe this was a wise course of action, Harry?"

"No, not in retrospect… but Merlin, that woman has a way to push my buttons!" Harry exclaimed, frustrated, "Not even Malfoy has that kind of effect. It's been eleven years since I've dealt with her. Eleven years, and she still makes me want to commit murder."

"And what would you like me to do?"

"Reassign my detentions. I'll even settle for Snape, rather than sit through Umbridge's torture sessions."

"Me too," Matt added.

"It's _Professor_ Snape, Harry. And what reason did she assign you detention, Mr. Tyson?"

"I only chose to leave with Harry."

"I see."

"It's either reassign them, or we don't show up. One or the other," said Harry, bluntly.

"Really!" spoke one of the portraits, high up on the wall, appalled at Harry's belligerent attitude. A number of others were shifting uncomfortably as well.

"At least I'm not planning on skiving off her class," Harry pointed out, relenting slightly. Dumbledore only leaned back in his chair thinking for a moment.

"Harry, you do realize, if I make an exception, others will wish to be treated likewise."

"Which is why I'm only asking this once," Harry promised.

"I'll accept that, Harry," answered the headmaster, drawing a page of parchment of his own. He wrote down a few words, then rolled it up, and tapped it with his wand. "William, take this to Professor Umbridge. I'll see the three of you at dinner."

Harry couldn't help but smirk, as the three of them waited outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The bell had not yet rung, so class was still in session. They had decided to wait, so they wouldn't disturb the class further.

"From here on out, you'll be sitting at the back of the room, Harry," Bill spoke, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It would do for Ron and Hermione to join you."

"Me too," said Matt, "What about using a muffling charm or something, you could probably keep tutoring me."

"We can try it I guess. And I'm dead serious about consuming a calming draught before this class from now on. She won't get the better of me again." Just then, the bell rang to signal the end of the period. The door to the classroom opened, and students began filing out, a number of them giving Harry odd looks, or glares, depending on which side of the fence they were on. Ron and Hermione were the last to file out, but stopped, seeing Harry, Matt, and Bill.

"What'd Professor McGonagall say?" questioned Ron.

"Nothing really. We saw Dumbledore. Bill's got a note for the Professor."

"Yes, right," said Bill, as the five of them re-entered the classroom, where Professor Umbridge was still packing up her handbag.

"Professor Umbridge. A note from the headmaster," said Bill, holding out the scroll. The witch regarded the red-head for a moment, then accepted it. She glanced from it, to Harry several times, before rolling it back up and stuffing it into her handbag. She only smiled at Harry, a smile that did not reach her eyes, saying, "Very well, dear. He is, for now, still the headmaster."

"What do you mean, for now?" Ron spoke up, but Hermione was already herding him toward the door, before he could put his foot further in his mouth.

"Good afternoon, Professor," said Harry, acidly, as they quickly followed Hermione's example.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: This chapter was like pulling teeth. I hate writers' block, but it happens. This probably could have been better, but meh, it was something along the lines of what I imagined. Now, the question is, who will Harry have to serve detention with? And will Umbridge still have her way with him? Oh, wait, that came out badly… *cackles insanely*_

_(1) I've probably got this quote wrong, but I think I have the gist of it right. I think it was from the movie version, can't find it in the book._

_(2) __Taken from p. 203, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition. Also remember, Harry was not present in the dorm the 'last time around', and would not have gotten into the confrontation with Seamus._

_(3) More than a few parts taken from Order of the Phoenix here. I won't cite exact pages/passages, but recognize there are sections borrowed directly from the book, here._

_(4) Taken from p. 211, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition._

_(5) Taken from p. 218 - ???, Order of the Phoenix, Canadian soft-cover edition, with a few changes._


	31. A Solution Contained

A Solution Contained

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ StoryTagger, zutarakid50, Thenchick, and scotsremusfan. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Chapter posted May 7, 2010_

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XXX-  
A SOLUTION CONTAINED**

**Or, Harry solves his trunk overcrowding problem**

**

* * *

**Immediately following dinner, the group headed back into the trunk. Ron was at once accosted by his parents, who led him to their apartment, likely to discuss his decision to drop Divination. Harry understood where Molly and Arthur were coming from, it wasn't his place to interfere. Matt quickly disappeared into the studio, to hook up with his band mates and catch up on what they had been doing, and Hermione vanished into the study, most likely to get started on her homework. He left his book bag in his room, then also made his way into the study.

Surprisingly, it was for the most part vacant, other than Sirius and Remus, who were seated at one end of the large conference table. Both looked up as Harry entered.

"Well, kiddo, how was your first day?"

"Did I mention I hate Umbridge?" Harry muttered, plopping down into a seat at the table.

"That bad?"

"That bad," answered Harry, "She gave me a weeks' detention."

"Harry—" Remus began, but Harry cut him off, saying, "I know… Bill already scolded me, as did Professor McGonagall. But Merlin, that woman… I don't know if I can do it… to put up with her dragon shit for an entire school year. Never mind the fact I scored a zero in Potions."

"And had you been paying attention to your cauldron and not your boyfriend or whatever you happen to call him…" Harry looked up to see Snape stepping into the study, with his patented sneer planted firmly on his face.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Professor," Harry muttered.

"As it stands, you may earn those marks tomorrow night serving your first detention."

"Thanks."

"You will be expected to be in my classroom for five o'clock tomorrow evening, along with Mr. Tyson."

"Why can't we just do it in the lab here, sir?"

"It's detention, Potter. It's not MEANT to be convenient," Snape sneered.

"Right. You might want to have extra stocks of Murtlap tentacles on hand, sir. A lot of students will need it before we're rid of Umbridge."

"I'm aware of that," answered Snape. He turned on his heel, and left, his robes billowing behind him.

"I really wish he'd drop the attitude," Harry muttered.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before that'll ever happen," said Sirius, "But you know that already, Harry."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Harry…"

"Just the person we want to see…" Harry craned his neck, and found two identical faces looking down at him.

"What do you need?"

"We've got a brilliant plan for tomorrow at breakfast. D'you think we could borrow Dobby or Kreacher for a moment?"

"Couldn't you guys wait at least a few days before—"

"It's not for the students. It's for Umbridge," George grinned.

"Oh. Well… Dobby?" The elf in question appeared with a light pop. "Harry call for Dobby?"

"Yeah, I did. Fred and George need your help for a bit. You mind?"

"We need help with a little prank," said Fred, with a grin. Dobby nodded enthusiastically.

"Thanks Harry."

"You'll love it!" With that, both twins left, Dobby following close behind.

"You really shouldn't be encouraging them." Harry looked up to see Hermione taking a seat opposite him.

"Just as long as it's nothing permanent, I'll help any way I can," answered Harry, with a shrug.

"It's setting a bad example, Harry."

"No, a bad example is Umbridge, and Binns, and Trelawney, and Lockhart, and Quirrel… do I need to go on? The twins are harmless… well… other than some temporary discomfort, and a good laugh now and then… just leave them be, Hermione. Besides, I think all their energy will be focused on Umbridge for the next while."

"I suppose."

"Hermione, you don't need to be 'by the book' to be a good prefect," said Remus, "Your peers will hate you if you pick at every little mis-deed."

"This coming from one of the Marauders," Harry snickered.

"McGonagall made him a prefect to try and keep Sirius and James in line, not that it did much good," said Lily, from her portrait above the fireplace. That got another smirk from Harry, and a grin from both Sirius and Remus.

"Still, the prefects' handbook says—" Hermione began, but Remus said, "Yes, it's a guideline, but that's it. Your job is to make sure things don't get too far out of hand, that's all. Like I said, you be too much of a stickler, and your peers will hate you for it."

"Now… I think I'll spend a bit of time with Cedric," Harry decided, standing. He debated about sending his clone, but decided against it. No, this was something he needed to do entirely as himself.

The following morning, as Harry got ready to head to breakfast, there was a knock at the bedroom door. He opened it to find Jiro there.

"'morning," he said, "I've had a long night, but we might have a solution to your trunk problem."

"Go on."

"What about using a large crate, you know, the walk-in kind? You can expand things as you see fit, right?"

"Yeah, of course. It might work, worth a try. Are Fred and George around, or did they head to breakfast already?"

"Gone to breakfast."

"Get some rest, I'll meet up with you at lunch." Jiro nodded, and left.

"What was that all about?" questioned Matt, as he exited the bathroom.

"Jiro's got a possible solution to our trunk expansion problem. I'll be meeting him here at lunch time."

"Why don't you just send your clone to class?"

"You won't mind?"

"Why not? It's still 'you', right?"

"I guess. And we won't have Umbridge today. That's what I'll do, then. At least for the afternoon."

Harry was slightly disappointed at breakfast. Whatever Fred and George had put in motion, there had been no 'spectacular effect', as he had expected; Umbridge seemed to enjoy her breakfast without any side-effects. Yet, glancing down the table to the twins, he saw both of them smirking. Maybe it was a delayed-reaction thing.

With both Charms and Transfiguration, Harry spent most of both periods teaching Matt the material from lesser years, helping him to catch up. Both professors were willing to help out as well with questions and the like; Flitwick was rather impressed with how much Matt already knew.

Come lunch time, Harry returned to the dormitory rather than eat in the Great Hall, as the others would. He re-entered the trunk, then his room, and produced his clone.

"Take afternoon classes, and meet Snape for detention. And look after Matt."

"That's a given," the clone snorted. He vanished with a noisy POP.

"You're not having lunch with your friends?" Hestia Jones, if Harry remembered correctly, as he took a seat at the table.

"Taken care of. I've got stuff to do this afternoon."

"By skiving class?" Lily pursed her lips in disapproval.

"Mum, remember my clone?" 'O', she mouthed, while James smirked in their portrait.

"But that's the same as cheating, is it not?" questioned Jones.

"Why would it be? I get his memories and experiences when we merge," Harry answered.

"The lad's gotcha there, lassie," Moody spoke, gruffly, his magical eye whirring madly about.

"Has Voldemort made any moves lately?"

"Nothing we've caught wind of, if that's whatcha mean."

"That's the only thing my connection was useful for. I had a sense of what he was doing."

"Harry, it's better you don't have that sort of connection," Sirius pointed out, "I do remember what you related to us of your first time around."

"Still, it's less intelligence. Especially considering things have changed."

"If we hear anything, you'll be one of the first to know," said Remus.

"Even in the middle of class, if it's important enough, I need to know about it."

"We'll send someone for you in that case," said Sirius.

Once finished with lunch, Harry headed for Jiro and Zachariah's apartment. The loud music coming from within told him all he needed to know. Billy had taken to their musical style rather enthusiastically, and spent most of his time in their presence.

"Harry… good of you to come down," Jiro greeted, pulling him into the office.

"We've been through just about every idea we could come up with as far as the trunk dilemma," said Zachariah, "Then I thought about using a shipping crate."

"You mean the ones they use on trains?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"You guys are mental. How do you plan on getting one of those in here?"

"Magic, of course," answered Zachariah, "But think about the expandability. I plugged some numbers into the computer, I think you'll like the result." He dragged out a sheet of paper, and passed it over. Harry looked it over, his eyes occasionally flicking to Zachariah. "You sure of this?"

"Positive. I ran the numbers twice. I think the point here is, you won't want for space anytime soon."

"Once again, you guys are a life saver."

"So that means I get my own house now?" questioned Billy. He'd remained quiet up to this point, content to listen to the music and stay out of the way.

"If all goes well, yeah, I would imagine so."

"We could likely produce a small, well… outdoor area. So we're not so cooped up inside," said Jiro.

"If you help out, likely we could. But I also don't want to go nuts and waste the space either. To have that much room… and don't forget, it takes a lot of energy to make changes like that."

"And Mr. and Mrs. O'Callaghan need their own house, too, right?" Billy reminded.

"Yeah, definitely. They've been quite gracious all considering, but I can tell, them being cooped up with Matt's band mates is grating on them." He thought for a moment, then said, "There's a few places we can get one of those. Both Liverpool and Southampton have major container facilities."

"You've been to both places?" questioned Jiro. Harry nodded, continuing, "There was a couple of times I used a container as a hiding place."

"Then you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"It's probably best to do it at night," said Zachariah, "Less chance of you guys running into problems."

"And you won't be coming," said Jiro, "Nor is Matt. It's a job for experienced wizards." Harry made to object, but realized Jiro was right. Inexperience could result in problems. "Tonight then."

The expedition in the early hours of Wednesday morning to procure the shipping container took all of an hour, with Harry having prior knowledge of the container yard in Liverpool. Once it was back in the trunk, the question then was, where would they store it while the initial magical modifications were made to it?

It was Bill who came up with the obvious solution: the Chamber of Secrets. "Harry, you're the only one other than Voldemort who has the ability to get in there," he pointed out just before they left for breakfast that morning. Harry had merged with his clone just after waking up.

"Good plan," Harry agreed.

"Why not just leave it down there?" Matt questioned, checking his book bag to make sure he had the materials for that morning's classes.

"No reason why we couldn't, I guess. At least for now. Although I will have to have a word with Myrtle—"

"Who's Myrtle?" questioned Matt.

"One of the ghosts. She haunts the second floor girls' bathroom, and well… I'd rather not upset her more than necessary."

"Doesn't sound like the friendly sort."

"Well… it is her space."

"Wait… she was the one who died the first time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, right?" Matt remembered what Harry had explained about the whole fiasco surrounding the Chamber.

"Right."

"But why do ghosts exist… I mean, sounds pretty lonely, to be stuck in one place for eternity."

"They choose to," answered Bill, "They have to want that before they die, but… it's a choice." Matt only nodded.

"We ready?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Gonna produce my clone, then. He can deal with the container. Let's go to breakfast."

* * *

The remainder of the week seemed to fly by, as Harry—or his clone, for the most part, sorted out the stolen shipping container. Luckily, it had been empty, or the disposal of its contents might have taken several days.

He had began by installing a door linking it back to the original trunk—the twins had built several extras, understanding Harry would likely be needing a number of them. Once that was installed and working, he sealed the front of the container permanently, since there would be no need to enter it that way.

Then, came the more difficult part: the internal expansion. How much something could be expanded depended on what it was made of. The original trunk was already expanded to its limits, being made of wood. Wood was somewhat flexible, but not exactly stretchy. Steel, on the other hand, could stretch somewhat, and was quite flexible, due to its molecular structure.

Once a sort of entry hall was established, Harry built an apartment for Lucas and his family. He thought back to the home he remembered them having, and created a layout similar to that. It was the least he could do to make them feel a little more at home in his world. It still infuriated him that he had displaced them as he had, although in the end it hadn't been his fault.

Just like the Weasleys, a family who saw him as an eighth son. They too, were displaced, and now sharing a space in his trunk network. Thinking of them, he decided to create a larger apartment for them as well, seeing as it would likely take some time before the Burrow could be rebuilt—most likely after the war was over.

Mid-afternoon on Thursday, Harry sought out Lucas. As expected, he was found in the studio, watching as "Thrice Defied" worked on new material.

"Lucas? I've finally got you and your family an apartment of your own," said Harry. Lucas looked up and only nodded. Harry could tell the weeks of little privacy were most certainly grating on the man. "Come with me, I'll show you."

"I'll still be able to come here?"

"Of course, it's still connected to the other trunks," Harry explained.

"Still find it amazing you can do such things."

"It is right useful, that's for sure. This way…"

Lucas was floored by Harry's work. "God, I would've sworn I'd just walked into my house back in Centuria Primus!"

"Good, that's what I had hoped you'd think. I didn't see all of your home, but I hope this makes it feel at least a little like it."

"Harry, it's amazing. You did well, from what little you saw of it," answered Lucas, as he looked around. "Meghan will be ecstatic, I can't thank you enough."

"It's all I can do, considering it was my fault you ended up with us in the first place."

"Harry, we've been through that before. I don't blame you, nor does Meghan. If anything, she says that perhaps we're needed here. The ancients always have reasons."

"Yeah, sometimes I question that… I've had to live this life twice."

"And there has to be a reason for it. Keep that in mind. The reason will present itself, it's just the way of it."

"I guess. Let's just… where's Meghan and your son? Maybe get them settled as well…"

By that evening, the Weasleys were also moved into their new apartment, as was Billy. Harry was more than glad to have his privacy back—or more like, privacy for him and his partners. They had kept things relatively tame while Billy shared the room. It was clear he wasn't entirely comfortable with Harry's multiple partners. Needless to say, that first night with full privacy was spent… rather well. More than a couple of people noticed both Harry and Matt walking rather awkwardly the following morning.

The following evening, Harry joined the rest of the Quidditch team as they held tryouts to fill the vacated keeper position. At least eight individuals had shown up expressing interest, including Ron—although this time it had not surprised him. He'd done it the first time around after all.

The practice went well into the evening, and in the end, Ron was chosen. As with last time, the impromptu party in the common room lasted until the early hours of the morning, it being the start of the weekend and all.

* * *

The weekend went relatively quietly for the group in the trunk. That Sunday morning found the study a beehive of activity, as one end was cleared of books and shelves, so Harry could expand the room. There would be more shelving added, as well as a second conference and work table, as both the twins, Jiro, and Zachariah sometimes occupied the main table, something that couldn't continue.

In fact, as all the work was going on, Zachariah and the twins were still huddled around a computer at one end of the work table, going over diagrams recovered from the mine. Beside the computer, was one of the artefacts Harry had encountered. This had been one of their side-projects: to determine the purpose of the artefacts. It was clear they were connected in some way. The question was, what was the link?

Without warning, a blue bolt of magic flew over their heads, accompanying shouts of, "Shit!" "Stop it!" "Impedimenta!"

"What—" Zachariah had to duck, as a heavy book flew straight at his head, missing only by inches. Both Fred and George drew their wands in an attempt to stop the rogue piece of literature, but it seemed to have a mind of its own, swooping down like some deranged bird, attacking wizard and Muggle alike.

"Enough of this!" Moody boomed, "REDUCTO!" A red bolt of magic collided with the book, blasting a hole through it, causing it to thump down on the table, knocking the mysterious artefact to the floor in the process.

"Bloody hell," Ron cursed, getting to his feet.

"Jesus Christ, what was that?" Matt muttered, also getting to his feet.

"Cursed book, I think," said Harry, offering a hand to Hermione, and helping her to her feet.

"No shit," said Matt, "Never thought books could be physically dangerous."

"We should take him into the restricted section," said Ron.

"Or show him the Monster book of Monsters," Harry added, "You'll be needing that one soon anyway. Right. Is everyone okay?"

Needless to say, the remainder of the books that needed to be moved were treated much more carefully.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTES**__: It was interesting to note, that all the reviews I received from the previous chapter all had something to say about Umbridge. Trust me, she will have her reckoning… whether it be with Harry… or with someone—or someTHING else. We know how racist she truly is, and for now, that's all I'm going to say on the matter._


	32. At Wit's End

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ zutarakid50, Thenchick, and kehlencrow. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Chapter posted May 10, 2010_

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XXXI-  
AT WITS' END**

**Or, Harry has one too many encounters with umbridge**

**

* * *

**Monday morning was on them all too soon, as the previous afternoon had literally flown by—well… somewhat true, considering they it had been a Quidditch practice. Most of the time had been spent working with Ron, helping him improve his keeper skills. The first game wouldn't be for some time yet, but an opportunity not taken is as good as an opportunity wasted.

At any rate, Monday had arrived, and the enlarged group was once again seated for breakfast in the Great Hall. As was typical first thing in the morning, Hermione was already reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, not that it really served a useful purpose these days. Bill, as always, stood by the doors, although this morning he had a wicked smirk on his face.

"What?" Hermione finally burst, seeing the goofy grin on Matt's face.

"Hermione… you don't wanna know," answered Harry, between bites of toast.

"Just say, it's stuff best kept behind closed doors," Matt threw in, and got a poke in the side from Harry for his efforts. "Hey!"

"Well?" Harry smirked, grabbing him by the tie. They locked lips together, resulting in whistles and cat-calls from those nearby.

"Hem hem…" Both Harry and Matt broke for air, seeing the loathsome Dark Arts Defence teacher hovering nearby. "I believe I'll take ten points each from Gryffindor, for that most unsavoury display in public," she spoke, in her typical girly voice.

"Just because they're snogging—" Hermione jumped in, but Umbridge retorted, "Yes, I CAN, Miss Granger. I'm a teacher, you're not, and I will not have such nasty and inappropriate displays occurring in public spaces!"

"So, let's say, if Hermione and I were to—"

"Ron!"

"It would still be inappropriate, Mr. Weasley—"

"So you have a problem with two boys snogging, that it?" Matt retorted. At this point, Bill had moved to join Harry and Matt at the table.

"Most… well…"

"Thank you professor, that's all I needed to know," said Matt, with a false smile.

"And I'll take an additional five points from Gryffindor, for your cheek, Mr. Tyson."

"Professor Umbridge… fuck off," said Harry.

Umbridge actually blinked. Her flabby, toad-like mouth hung open in shock for a moment, as if she were struck dumb by what the boy had just said to her. Then, she smiled sweetly, and said, "Another weeks' detention, Mr. Potter." She turned on heel, and waddled back toward the head table.

"Harry!? Are you mental?!" Bill almost shouted, "What did we tell you?!"

"I don't care. She's not gonna tell me who I can and can't love and where and when I can show affection for that person! And as far as her detentions go, she can shove them all up her arse!" Right then and there, everyone in earshot knew Gryffindor's chance of winning the house cup had just evaporated.

"And that'll be another ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," spoke Umbridge, turning around. Apparently, she'd heard every word of Harry's tirade. Harry slammed a fist down on the table making everyone jump, grabbed his book bag at his feet, and stormed out of the Great Hall.

During History of Magic, Harry tried his best to continue tutoring Matt, but Matt could tell Harry was far too distracted.

"I'll work on my own," Matt offered, "Just get yourself together."

"No! I—"

"Harry… you're in no shape to help anyone, being all stirred up."

"You're right. I—I need to resort my thoughts."

"Good. Let's pick up after lunch. It's a spare anyway." Matt put a hand on Harry's shoulder in support.

Potions class began with Snape returning their essays on the properties of Moonstone. Harry was slightly surprised to see a hastily scratched 'A' in an upper corner.

"The grades you received on this paper are the grades you likely would have received had you presented this work in your OWL," said Snape, as he continued to return the essays, "This should give you an idea of what to expect during the examination. The general standard of this homework was abysmal. I expect a great deal more effort—" he paused here as he handed Malfoy back his assignment. The boy glanced at the paper and quickly slid it into his book bag. "—on this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I will begin assigning detentions to those who get a 'D'." He was back at the front of the classroom at this point, and so gestured at the blackboard with his wand. "Today, you will be brewing a simple strengthening solution. Instructions are on the board, you have until the bell…"(1)

Harry and Matt quickly set out preparing the potion, with Harry retrieving the ingredients this time. They both went over the instructions several times to be sure they had it right; Harry wished not to repeat what had happened the previous Monday.

"Your potion should now be a clear turquoise shade," said Snape, with just a few minutes left before the bell. Harry had to suppress a grin; their potion was not exactly perfect, but it was certainly close enough.

"Good enough, I think," said Harry, drawing out a small flask. He filled it, labeled it with their names, and delivered it to Snape's desk. In fact, they had enough time to properly clean up their work bench and pack up before the bell rang.

They quickly caught up with Ron and Hermione.

"Guys… let's go back to the dormitory," said Harry.

"The dorm—oh, right," said Hermione, catching on at once. They hurried through the corridors, back to the main staircase, and from there, back to the portrait which accessed the Gryffindor dormitory.

"Password?" spoke the fat lady.

"Mimbulus mimbletoina," said Matt.

"Enter," said the fat lady, and the portrait swung open. Harry didn't stop in the common room. He almost ran up the stairs to the sixth year dorms, then threw open the door leading into the trunk. The others quickly followed, with Bill ensuring the door was closed, being the last one through. There were still a good number of people who were not trustworthy.

"I won't be taking any more meals in the Great Hall," said Harry, finally taking a seat at the dining room table.

"Don't blame 'ya there, mate," said Ron, as he and Hermione took seats opposite. Bill and Matt took up a seat on either side of Harry.

"And I'm really considering skiving off her class. Just being in the same room with her… just put it this way… it's gonna result in one death, and someone going to Azkaban."

"That bad, kiddo?" questioned Sirius, as he entered the room. Lunch was already out, but the other occupants of the trunk were just arriving.

"That bad, Sirius. I want to kill her. And that's just a week being here."

"Harry, you have to get control of yourself—"

"I KNOW THAT!" Harry practically exploded, causing the dishes on the table to rattle. Both Bill and Matt put a hand on Harry's shoulders to help calm him down. It barely worked, as the boy-turned-man took a deep breath. "Fawkes?"

The bird in question appeared in a flash of flame, then came to rest on the boy's shoulder. Seeing his apparent distress, he began to sing, the beautiful music of the phoenix filling the room.

When Harry felt calm enough, he reached into his book bag and drew out a scrap of parchment. He scribbled out a note, then rolled it up, and passed it to the bird. "Take this to Dumbledore, please." Fawkes vanished again in a flash of flames.

It seemed like only seconds later, when Harry heard the fireplace roar to life, and the headmaster stepped into the room.

"'afternoon, professor," said Hermione.

"And good afternoon, miss Granger," said Dumbledore, then to Harry, "It seems you've had a slight misunderstanding at breakfast."

"Yeah, you could say that," answered Harry, bitterly, "Sir, I can't do it. I just can't be in her presence without wanting to do her bodily harm!" he blew out an exasperated breath, his nerves still very much rattled by that morning's events.

"He said he might kill her," Ron threw in.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished, but it was a bit late for scolding. Dumbledore looked rather surprised at the revelation. "Harry, is that true?"

"Yes professor."

"Harry, I understand your frustration, but such a statement is alarming, to say the least."

"Which is why I won't be sitting in her classes from here on out. Professor, we aren't learning anything from her anyway."

"he could keep tutoring me in lower year material," Matt threw in.

"All of you know I can't ever officially agree to you missing Defence Against the Dark Arts. It is, after all, a core subject."

"I know that. I do plan on sitting for my OWLs in the spring," said Harry, "But I won't put myself at risk of doing something I may or may not regret later." He gestured at himself, restoring his older appearance. "Because, let's face it, this side of me would love have five minutes alone with her—and my wand."

"Harry… promise me you won't do anything rash," Bill practically pleaded.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then said, "I won't do anything rash without talking about it first."

"Better than nothing at all, I suppose," said Bill, "But really, Harry, you have to be careful. You know Fudge is looking for a reason to have you expelled, or worse."

"Ah, but you have to remember, that sort of issue falls with me and me alone," Dumbledore countered.

"Unless he has me arrested, or attempts to, as he did last time," Harry reminded. He mentally reminded himself there was someone else sitting high on his revenge list.

"Yes, and so attacking Umbridge would virtually guarantee that," Hermione threw in. Harry had to agree with that point.

"For this afternoon, I will send along a note releasing you from your Defence Against the Dark Arts class," said Dumbledore, conjuring up a scrap of parchment. Using a quill and ink, he quickly scribbled out a note, then summoned Fawkes. He took the note, and was gone as quickly as he had came, with the same brilliant flash of flame. "Do remember, what you decide to do with future classes is entirely up to you, as are the consequences."

"I understand, sir," said Harry, "Thank you."

* * *

It was late Thursday morning before Harry saw Umbridge again. They were just heading back up to Gryffindor tower from the dungeons, when they almost quite literally bumped into the squat witch.

"Mr. Potter…" she smiled a fake smile, "I'll take two hundred points from Gryffindor, for your not showing up to serve your detentions Tuesday and yesterday."

"I don't care, Umbridge. I really don't," answered Harry, already mentally running through his calming exercises.

"And an additional ten points for disrespecting a teacher…" she clucked her tongue.

"DO YOU REALLY THINK I GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT HOUSE POINTS?!" Harry roared, the magic crackling around him, causing several occupants of nearby portraits to scatter, "I've faced VOLDEMORT four times! How many times have YOU faced him, PROFESSOR?!"

"I've never—"

"And I'm not done! You're nothing but a useless, blind, bureaucrat, with only your own self-interests at heart! How dare you come in here, bringing such rot!"

"Mr. Potter! What on earth—" McGonagall stopped short, at once realizing who was the target of his latest outburst.

"What am I yelling at?! This useless excuse for a Dark Arts Defence teacher!" Harry bellowed. By this point, a good number of students had gathered below, watching the outburst.

"Mr. Potter, get a hold of yourself!" McGonagall snapped, gripping his shoulder and giving it a shake.

"I never… if this is truly the kind of school Dumbledore is running, things are far worse than I expected…" Umbridge tut-tuted, "The minister will know of this at once!" She turned on her heel, and headed off toward her office.

"Well now you've gone and done it," said Bill, "You've just made things much worse."

"Thanks for the support," said Harry, sarcastically.

"What did you want us to do, join you in yelling at her? What good would it have done?" Matt questioned.

"Maybe, make her believe it wasn't just me who knows what she's up to?"

"The five of you come with me," said McGonagall.

A minute or so later, they were again in the deputy headmistress' office.

"Sit down, Potter." Harry took a seat in front of the desk.

"What will it take for you to learn some sort of control around professor Umbridge?"

"Her death?" answered Harry, bitterly. McGonagall pursed her lips, but Harry continued, "Professor, she's number FIVE on my revenge list. A list that carries more than a fist full of names. Her crimes against witches and wizards on the light side more than earned it the first time around."

"What right do you have to judge a person by something they haven't yet done?" McGonagall challenged.

"That is exactly the point," said Harry, gesturing to himself, once again restoring his older appearance. "This is who I am. Not the fifteen year old boy who appears to be attending his fifth year of schooling at Hogwarts. I'm here to do a job. Being a student is secondary to that."

"And you still have to obey the rules, Potter," McGonagall shot back, "Rules that are in place for a good reason."

"Unless there's a good reason for breaking them—such as unfair detentions," Harry countered, "She's giving me detentions because I kissed Matt in the Great Hall—"

"And then shouted most dreadful language at her, in the middle of lunch of all times! Do you not think of these things? First years should not be exposed to such language!"

"Sorry, professor."

"Yes, and sorry you should be. Since detentions aren't working, nor the removal of house points, I see no choice but to suspend you from the Quidditch team until further notice."

"WHAT?!"

"Perhaps that should allow the gravity of your actions to sink in." Harry narrowed his eyes at his head-of-house, then vanished with a noisy CRACK.

"Forgot he could do that," Matt muttered, while McGonagall looked on, rather stunned at the sudden disappearance.

"Professor… but… isn't that a bit harsh?" questioned Ron.

"No, Mr. Weasley, I don't believe it is. But Potter needs to understand he can't be going off half-cocked. Now go look after him, 'fore he winds up in more trouble."

"I just don't know anymore, Cedric…" Harry muttered, grasping a cold hand that belonged to his third mate, still locked in a sort of stasis. "I really thought I could do this but… I don't know anymore. All I've done is cause chaos. I really wish you were here, rather than locked away in there…" His mind drifted to vocalized ideas from weeks earlier. Perhaps, Wizarding Britain wasn't worth saving.

Harry remained in Cedric's room for the remainder of the afternoon, only returning to the common room of the trunk as it neared supper time. The smell of food had began to waft in a little over an hour earlier—smelled like shepherd's pie was on the menu.

The following morning, Harry dreaded the arrival of the paper. He already had a good idea what would be in it, but out of morbid curiosity, took a look anyway.

His gut feeling was right. A large photograph of Delores Umbridge was smiling and blinking slowly at them from beneath the headline:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM  
DELORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED  
FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR(2)

Harry shoved the paper away in disgust. This was going to be a _fun_ day… not.

"I won't be in class today," he announced.

"But Harry…" Hermione began to protest, but Harry held up a hand. "Look. I'm taking a long weekend. Someone mind taking notes for me… and help Matt if you can."

"No, I'll be staying behind too," said Matt, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"What about sending your clone?" suggested Billy, from the opposite end of the table.

"No, because he'll be dealing with the same mental baggage as I am now."

"Oh."

"I'll lend you my notes later, but don't expect me to do it all the time," said Hermione.

"I won't… and thanks. I just… don't wanna face anyone right now. If anyone asks, I was feeling ill and went to see Madam Pomfrey. And Bill… I need you to still stand watch during DADA, keep up appearances."

"Yeah, of course," Bill nodded in agreement.

The day went by without incident, Harry continuing to tutor Matt in the lower year subjects. They spent the time in the new container, as Harry continued working on adding an additional set of rooms. He debated attempting a Room of Requirement, but decided against it in the end, citing if he really needed to, he could use the one in the school. Sirius and Remus joined them for the afternoon, and that somewhat lifted his spirits. After all, Remus had been perhaps the best Dark Arts Defence teacher they'd had.

Just after supper, George and his twin entered the trunk. "Harry, you might want to avoid Angelina for the next while," George warned.

"She's ready to skin you alive, the way she was ranting at lunch today," Fred threw in.

"Great."

"And Umbridge actually came into the common room looking for you just before we came in here," Hermione warned.

"Guys. You know what will happen if I ever sit a detention with her."

"It'll be your last?" said Fred.

"It's not funny!" Hermione huffed, "You know what will happen, Harry!"

"I know that Hermione!" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, doing a very good imitation of Snape. "That's one of the reasons I didn't go to class today."

"You can't avoid her forever, mate," said Ron.

"I can try."

Before turning in for the night, Harry produced his clone while in the bathroom. "Sleep with Matt and Bill. I've got stuff to do." The clone nodded, and stepped back into the bedroom, while Harry vanished with a silent POP.

He appeared in the History of Magic classroom, where Peeves was scrawling rude words on the blackboard. "Peeves, just the one I want to speak to," said Harry, with a nasty smirk.

"Oooo Potty's out after curfew…" cackled the poltergeist, making ready to seach out Filch, likely.

"Wait, Peeves… I need you to help me with something."

"And what will Potty give Peevsey?"

"How about a box of Weasley's pranks? In return, I want you to make Umbridge's life HELL. Think you can do that?" The poltergeist gave a nasty smirk, then said, "Deal!"

"Where do you want me to leave your… um… payment?"

"Anywhere you likes and Peevsey will finds it!!"

"Great. Give me a couple of hours, and I'll leave something for you in the girls' bathroom on the first floor."

The arrangement made, Harry apparated back into the trunk, then used the door to re-enter the dormitory. As expected, Fred and George were still up, huddled with Lee Jordan in a corner of the common room. Luckily, Angelina was already off to bed.

"Guys."

"Harry…" said Fred.

"Didn't you go to bed?" his twin finished.

"Yes and no, if you get my drift." Both twins nodded, then George questioned, "What do you need?"

"A box of Wheezes, for Peeves." Fred, George, and Lee all arched an eyebrow.

"Mental, this one is."

"Definitely, o' brother of mine."

"You sure that's a good idea?" questioned Lee.

"I've given Peeves a… special assignment," said Harry, nastily, "I need to give him something in payment."

"Come on, Fred, we've got a package to put together."

"Thanks guys."

About an hour later, the twins returned from the seventh year dormitories, bringing a medium-sized box.

"These will be perfect for his assignment."

"Tell him to give 'er hell for us," George finished, with a smirk. They knew very well who the pranks were for in reality. Peeves was just the messenger.

"I'll do that. How much do I owe you?"

"For you, Harry, it's on the house," said Fred.

"Considering you're our primary investor," George added.

"But…"

"No but's, honourary brother."

"We insist!" Harry only nodded, realizing it would be useless to try and argue with them.

Five minutes later, he was stowing the box in one of the stalls in the first floor girls' bathroom, where Peeves was likely to stumble across them. "Let's see you deal with HIM," Harry muttered.

A yowl interrupted his train of thought. Harry blew out an exasperated breath. Of COURSE he'd have to run into Mrs. Norris.

"Piss off, 'fore I transfigure you into a mouse and feed you to Hedwig."

"Threatening my cat, are yeh!?" 'Great, as if this couldn't get any better,' Thought Harry, bitterly, as the caretaker swooped into the bathroom.

Then, the world went sideways, as if he'd been slugged in the head. There came a deafening CRACK, and the sensation like he was being pulled apart and put back together again… the most bizarre experience he'd been through, EVER. Then everything went incredibly bright… and he was falling… falling through a heavy atmosphere… hard to breathe… poisonous! It was taking every bit of strength he had to get a finger up to his face—time was seeming to crawl, as he finally whispered the incantation to raise a bubble-charm. Whatever was in the air, it was deadly. And what of his strength? He felt as if… the air itself could be cut with a knife. He should be falling much faster than that! "A… a… arresto… momentum…" he finally managed, before his vision dimmed.

* * *

Bill woke up with a start, feeling Harry suddenly vanish from between them.

"Oh no…" he muttered, realizing what had happened: Harry had been sent to yet another dimension.

* * *

_So… Where's Harry landed now? Cookies to the first right answer!_

_(1) Most of it taken from p. 276 – 277, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian soft-cover edition._

_(2) Taken from p. 274, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian soft-cover edition._


	33. A Wizard on Pandora

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ zutarakid50, Exodiano (who gets cookies for guessing Harry's next location :D), and Thenchick. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Chapter posted May 14, 2010_

_CAUTION: Spoilers for Avatar movie-verse._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XXXII-  
A WIZARD ON PANDORA**

**Or, Harry once again is sent into another dimension**

**

* * *

**As Harry began to regain consciousness, the first thing he felt, was excruciating pain in his lower back. Something had dug into it on impact with the ground, more than likely. He could pick up two distinct voices whispering in low tones on either side of him, not speaking entirely in English. On instinct, he tried moving his toes, and was relieved to confirm he'd not done anything permanent.

"He's waking up," spoke the male. Harry finally dared open his eyes, and was somewhat surprised at the faces that framed his vision.

By all intents and purposes, their features strongly resembled that of a cat, with broad, flattened noses, and pointed ears which attached higher up on the skull, and more forward than that of a human's. Their skin was a striking cyan shade, with stripe-like markings of a slightly darker hue. Both had bright golden eyes that stood out strongly against the skin colour. What was truly amazing, was their height. He guessed the male stood nearly nine feet tall, with the female being only slightly shorter.

"Err… hello," Harry managed a small smile. He shifted in an attempt to sit up, but hissed as another angry spike of pain shot up his back.

"You are hurt?" questioned the female.

"My back… I think I slammed into something when I hit the ground."

"You fell from the sky?" questioned the male. 'Shit,' Harry cursed to himself mentally. How would he explain his arrival here? Clearly it was some alien world, the product of yet another forced dimensional jump on the part of those blasted instruments! "I guess you could say that," said Harry, chancing a quick glance at the male cat-person's mind.

Harry almost arched an eyebrow at the slew of images that flew through his consciousness. The guy was actually human, controlling this… fake body… avatar, as they called it? He was doing everything he could to blend in and fit in with these alien humanoids… Na'vi. He quickly withdrew, saying, "I landed here by accident… but I mean no harm."

"We do not know that," hissed the female, "Your kind only bring us lies!"

"I promise you, I won't intentionally hurt any of you. My name's Harry." Harry offered a hand. The female snorted at the gesture, but the male only nodded, leaned down, and accepted it. "Jake."

"Where am I?"

"Pandora," answered Jake, "And what is it covering your face? It's not any sort of re-breather I've seen."

"And you wouldn't," answered Harry, then hesitated. Did he dare tell them what he truly was? What difference would it make? Come to think of it, now he was fully aware of his surroundings, he could feel the magic around him, stronger than even a place like Hogwarts. "The magic here is strong."

"Magic?" Jake snorted, eyebrows furrowing, "There's no such thing as magic."

"Jake…" the female retorted, arching an eyebrow at Harry. "You feel it?"

"Stronger than on earth. It's as if… the whole area is alive with it." Harry flicked his wrist, producing his wand. "I'm… I'm a wizard. It's best… others don't know about that unless I tell them. Help me onto my side, please."

Jake only nodded, kneeling down beside the boy, and helped him onto his side.

"Great." Harry pointed his wand in the direction of the injury. "This isn't gonna tickle… E-episkey." He let out an anguished cry, as several cracked vertebrae instantly healed themselves, as did several bruised tendons and muscles.

"Then it was… magic that brought you here?" Jake guessed. Harry nodded, then said, "The universe hates me. This is the fourth dimension I've been slammed into. I've landed pretty much the same way each time!" He let out a heated breath.

"Then you know nothing of the sky people," spoke the female.

"Unlikely he does. This is Neytiri, Harry." That got a hiss from her, and a nod from Harry.

"Who… what are you, exactly?" Of course, Harry already knew that, but it was best to keep up appearances of being in the dark. He rolled back onto his back, then sat up. Jake leaned in and offered a hand, which Harry gladly accepted, and was helped to his feet.

"We are Na'vi," explained Neytiri, although her voice sounded very reluctant to reveal that information.

"You don't care for humans, I take it."

"Save for a few exceptions," answered Jake. That got a glare from Neytiri, who exclaimed, "You only come to take, with no understanding!"

"I don't," Harry promised, "I'm not here on purpose, and if I had a choice right now—" he stopped mid-sentence, stowing his wand away. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small pouch he kept on him at all times. Both Na'vi looked on cautiously as he opened it, dumping its contents into his hand.

Harry almost screamed in frustration. The miniaturized door had been busted into several pieces. It would take some time to fix it. Fawkes or the house elves might be unreliable, and so that was out of the question, at least for now. Stuffing the broken door back into the small pouch along with the rest of the items, he blew out a breath. "Looks like I'm stuck here for now."

"We can't just leave you here, the wild life will make a quick meal out of you," said Jake.

"Not back to Hometree," said Neytiri, vehemently.

"No. We will take him to the research station. Grace and Norm can look after him."

"Is it far from here?"

"It may take several days," answered Jake.

"If you show me, I can get us there quicker."

"As in how?"

"Allow me to look into your mind. I've read minds across species before, if that makes any sense." Neytiri shook her head, as in 'no', but Jake said, "Fine." Harry gave a nod, then pointed his wand at Jake. "Think only of the location of your research station. Let it fill your mind. Tell me when you're ready."

"Ready."

"Legilimens," spoke Harry, softly. At once, the image of a pair of large boxes, somewhat resembling the shipping container Harry had filched from Liverpool only a couple of weeks prior. Harry broke the connection. "Now I need an object. Something mundane, a stone, or something—no, nothing sharp…" Harry turned down the offered arrow.

"How about one of these?" suggested Jake, plucking a piece of fruit from a nearby tree, "But what does that have to do with getting us to the research station?"

"You'll see." Harry pointed his wand at the piece of fruit, speaking, "Portus… now get a finger on it."

"Why?" questioned Jake, but Neytiri already understood. The boy was using magic. She muttered something that sounded like 'scown!', then, "Get a finger on it!" Jake quickly did so.

"Activate!" Harry commanded, and felt the familiar hook about the naval, as the world spun away.

They landed rather roughly a short few feet from the research station.

"What the fuck was that?" Jake exclaimed, untangling himself from Neytiri, and scrambling to his feet, and assisting Neytiri to hers.

"It was called a port key. Sorry I didn't explain, but if I had, would you have trusted it?" Jake only nodded at Harry's explanation. 'The kid's got smarts,' he thought. Just then, the outer door to the station flew open, and someone stepped out of it, wearing a clear mask over his face. "Jake?" he called. He stopped, seeing Harry. The guy had light brown hair, a long face, and big ears. In some ways, Harry thought he was looking at a possible relation to Billy.

"We found him in the forest," explained Jake, "Harry, this is Norm. Norm, Harry."

"Pleasure," said Harry, offering a hand. Norm shook it. "What do you mean, found him in the forest?"

"Merlin, I'm gonna go spare," said Harry, exasperated. It was just… ludicrous! That was the best description. His fourth dimension hop since the summer, and he was REALLY getting tired of repeating himself. He gestured with his wand, producing a comfortable chair, much like he'd seen Professor Dumbledore do. That got a look of surprise from everyone.

"You just… did… you just… did—" Norm sputtered.

"Magic," Jake finished, accepting it for what it was.

"Yeah, it's very real. And I could go to prison for a long time for revealing that to any of you."

"If you'd just told me rather than showing me…" Norm was still staring wide-eyed at the chair.

"It is the will of Eywa," said Neytiri, her voice almost a whisper, "You channel her energies, Harry."

"But… magic has to come from within me…"

"But we all have it within us. Never before has a being with such ability walked on Pandora! Mother… must see you."

"Wonderful. So I'm to be paraded around in front of a bunch of strangers like some FREAK? I'm NOT a freak!" Harry burst, leaping out of his conjured chair.

"Of course not," said Norm, "But gosh, never met a real magician before…"

"What, you want to study me too, that it?" Harry glared at the group. 'Just great… the people I run into want to dissect me and find out what makes me tick…' he thought, now very much regretting his demonstration of magic in front of the humans and the Na'vi. He plopped back into his seat, and blew out a breath. "Look. I don't mean to be short with people, but… all I've ever wanted was just to be a normal boy, with a normal life. But someone in a universe far away from here decided that can't ever happen."

"RDA can't know he's here," said Norm, "One whiff of him, you'll end up exactly as a lab rat."

"That's for damn sure," Jake agreed, "They'd lock him up first—knowing Colonel Quaritch—or at least, his type."

"Thanks for the warning." Harry thought for a moment. "What did I walk into here? What's going on?"

"The sky people have no business here," spoke Neytiri, softly, although the anger still resonated with her words.

"So why are we here?"

"Give me a sec," said Norm, and he stepped back into the research station.

He reappeared about a minute later, bringing with him two things: what looked like a flat tablet with images on it, and a small piece of rock.

"Have a look at that." He tossed the rock to Harry, who held it for a moment in his hand. He gestured at it with a finger, and arched an eyebrow. "Bloody hell."

"It's called Unobtanium, because, until recently, it was exactly that."

"Merlin, what the Department of Mysteries wouldn't do to get their hands on this," said Harry, gesturing at it again with a finger. It floated easily a few inches above his outstretched hand. "They got an inkling of what's going on here… let's just say the Obliviators' office would be very busy. Muggles have no business handling this stuff."

"Muggle?" questioned Neytiri, sounding out the word.

"Oh… non-magical folk."

"Obliv-ator?" questioned Jake.

"Obliviator," Harry corrected, "They can make you forget things, or remember things differently… but I won't, I promise you all that. Just remember, things I'm telling you… I'm breaking the law just messing about here as I have." He snatched the piece of Unobtanium in his hand, and tossed it back to Norm.

"You say there are more like you?" Neytiri looked intrigued.

"The population ratio of Muggles to witches and wizards is about ten to one. If I could, I'd introduce you to some of my friends. Forgive me if I'm really only interested in getting back where I belong." Harry looked up, noting the shadows were getting long. The day was beginning to wane. "I should be in bed now, curled up against my partners, rather than be—here… I don't mean an offence, but…"

"I understand, Harry."

"We have a spare bunk. Come and rest for a few hours," Norm invited. Harry caught the questioning look Jake gave the human, and it wasn't lost on him. "Well, where else is he gonna stay? You know what would happen if you bring him within a mile of Hometree."

"I will speak to mother. Jake you will be okay here?" Harry didn't miss THAT look either.

"I'll be fine," answered Jake. Neytiri made some sort of call—it reminded Harry of a bird call. Without warning, a most bizarre creature touched down in the clearing. At first, Harry thought it was a type of dragon, and nearly drew his wand. Jake shook his head not to, as Neytiri approached the beast. Now, Harry could see it was a colourful green/rust mix. It had wings that would likely reach thirty feet or more, made of a leathery membrane of sorts, and breathed through holes just below its neck, near the top of the chest cavity.

"What is it?" he dared ask.

"We call them Ikran," said Neytiri, reaching up to pet the beast. It presented a long tendril of sorts as she mounted it, into which she planted the end of her long braid. They lifted off, and were gone within seconds.

"Why did she put her hair into…"

"She's bonded with it," answered Jake, "And very soon, I will have the chance to bond with one also."

"It could very well mean your death, man," spoke Norm.

"It's something I must do if I want to win their trust."

"But how does she bond with it?"

"Through this," said Jake, reaching back and presenting the end of his braid. Harry looked in amazement, seeing the tentacle-like feelers, glowing in the midst of his hair.

"It's called a neural queue," explained Norm, "It allows a Na'vi to connect to just about any part of the living world here. It's still something we don't truly understand." Harry made to touch the tendrils, but Norm swatted his hand away. "No! Don't touch it. We can't know what kind of reaction he might have to your magic."

"So?"

"For all I know, we might form Tsaheylu—bond, and to be brutally honest, I'd rather not."

"I know. I saw how you and Neytiri are connected already… and me… I'm taken thrice over," answered Harry, craning his neck to look Jake in the eye. It was then he noticed, the alien's skin had small glowing spots on them, as the light had diminished enough. 'Why am I here?' he thought to himself.

* * *

"_You know what to do, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge, smiling sweetly. The blank page of parchment was already waiting for him on the lace-covered table, the pointed black quill beside it. Harry picked up the quill, and began to write. The back of his hand had already been severely scarred from the use of the evil instrument, and with the first line, it almost burst open._

_I must not tell lies. The quill scratched on the paper, and blood trickled down through his fingers._

"_You will not defeat me, Harry." Harry knew it was not Umbridge speaking, and when he looked up, it was Voldemort looking back across the desk, with crimson-red eyes.(1)_

Harry woke with a start, a cry on the end of his tongue. 'Just a dream,' he thought, instinctually looking down at the back of his left hand. It was still unblemished.

Harry could pick up a very animated discussion happening in another part of the research station. The place was exactly like a pair of shipping containers, packed with scientific equipment and the bare necessities for living. 'Careful casting magic in here,' he reminded himself. He recognized both Jake and Norm's voice—how in the world did Jake fit in here, being so tall? He swung his legs over the side of the bunk, and lowered himself to the floor, then followed the voices.

"Good morning," said Norm, spotting Harry turn the corner. He and the stranger, a female, were gathered around a strange machine, with a second stranger hoisting himself out of a wheelchair into it. He couldn't be much taller than Harry, he estimated, with short brown hair and a short beard to match.

"You get enough rest?" Harry was surprised to hear Jake's voice. Harry realized this was his proper form, but was surprised just the same.

"He's confused," said Norm.

"And this is why he shouldn't have been brought here," said the female. 'Likely the person in charge of whatever this is,' Harry thought.

"I'm sorry… they suggested bringing me here," said Harry, "My name's Harry."

"This is Dr. Grace Augustine," Jake introduced, as he struggled to lift his legs into the odd chamber.

"Pleasure, I suppose," said Grace, who then took a drag off her half-finished cigarette.

"If you're in here… where's your… your Na'vi body?"

"Hidden outside," answered Jake.

"I helped cover him just before he went to sleep, so the wildlife don't run off with him," Norm explained, as Jake pulled down a small rack that hinged with the cover. It seemed to have numerous sensors that mapped with his body, and a larger number of sensors that mapped the area of his head.

"See you in a few," said Jake, as Norm closed the cover. The machine directly behind was already winding up, giving off a strong ring of light.

"And he's in," said Norm. Only seconds later, there was a knock on the air lock.

"Go with him," said Norm, "They'll likely take you to meet Eytukan and Mo'at, the clan leaders."

"Whatever you do, don't make any abrupt moves, you'll wind up dead," Grace warned, "I'll meet you there."

"How—oh, right." Harry understood at once, as Grace was already moving to a second machine, its lid already open. Harry gestured to his face, once again affixing a bubble-charm, then stepped into the air lock.

Jake was waiting as he stepped outside, and was just in time to see Neytiri arrive on her banshee. The morning was surprisingly bright, and the animal was even more spectacular than he'd seen at twilight.

"'morning," Harry greeted, as she dismounted and unhooked their bond.

"Mother wishes to meet you," she announced.

"Great, that's great, I guess."

"If you could make another object that would take us close, we will save some time," Neytiri suggested.

"You trust me?"

"I have had time to think," answered the Na'vi, "Speaking with mother and father… helpful it was."

"Your mount will have to make his own way back," said Harry.

"Her," Neytiri corrected, "She will return to Hometree. You may look into my mind when you are ready." Harry only nodded, slightly taken aback by her change of demeanour. She wasn't exactly friendly yesterday. The discussion with her parents had clearly had an impact. He drew his wand, and pointed it between her eyes. "Legilimens."

The image he got was astounding, to say the least. Never in his life had he seen a tree as large as the one he was then seeing in the alien's mind. It was easily the size of a skyscraper! Fixing the location in his mind, he broke the connection, noting not to try entering their minds without permission—her mind was an organized thing of beauty, even Snape would be impressed, and that was saying something. Natural Occlumens, perhaps? "Got one of those fruit-things then?" questioned Harry. Jake tossed him one of said item. "Portus."

They landed in the thick underbrush, but Harry could see a clearing not far away, and framed in the opening, was the same tree he'd seen only a minute before. It was truly magnificent, and imposing all at the same time, with branches stretching out for hundreds of feet.

"Merlin, I've never seen a tree that big!" Harry exclaimed.

"It is our home," answered Neytiri, "I do hope you will not betray our trust."

"I swear it, I won't," said Harry, "I know how important trust is… I've had my trust in people broken too many times as it is. My word on my magic, I will never threaten you or your people. I reserve the right to defend myself if necessary." A yellow thread of magic floated from Harry's chest to Neytiri's.

"What does it mean?"

"Say, 'so mote it be', to seal it. It will bind me to my word," Harry explained.

"S-s-so m-mote it… be," Neytiri spoke, and the thread vanished into her chest.

"What would happen if you broke your word?" questioned Jake.

"I would lose my magic."

"You risk much, Harry," said Neytiri. He could tell he'd just gained her absolute trust.

"I had to. I know nothing of this world. And my experience in the past few, leave me no room to make enemies. And by the sound of it, that will happen anyway, long before I leave."

"Yeah, Quaritch will take one look at you and that would be it," said Jake. They had stepped out into the expansive clearing. A number of Na'vi had spotted them, and were eyeing the trio cautiously. A human being brought to Hometree couldn't mean anything good, after all. The clan knew all too well the depravity of the humans. A ruined, bullet-ridden school house, its human books mouldy and rotting away, not far from Hometree was a stark reminder(2). Neytiri said something to a group of those who dared approach, in their native tongue.

"She's explaining you are no threat," said Jake, "At least I get the gist of it. I'm still learning the language myself."

"Is it hard?"

"Complicated, but it's only taken me three months to get where I'm at so far."

"He still has much to learn," Neytiri threw in, as they continued toward the massive tree in which the clan lived.

"I take it you aren't the only Na'vi on the planet—"

"Moon," Jake corrected.

"No. We are but one clan, the Omaticaya clan," said Neytiri.

"Your mother and father are leaders?"

"Mother is our Tsahik, or spiritual leader, but father is our leader. Mother is most curious to meet you, but you must be weary of father. He trusts not humans."

"He still doesn't trust me?" questioned Jake.

"It remains to be seen."

"If it's gonna cause problems with your family… maybe it's not such a good idea," said Harry, coming to a stop, clearly having second thoughts about visiting Neytiri's parents.

"Harry… you won't get any help from RDA. They'll want to pick you apart, study you."

"And so will Neytiri's mother—no offence, but I'm not a Muggle lab rat!"

"She won't," Neytiri reassured, resting a hand on his shoulder, "She is only curious."

"All right… fine."

As they got right up to the tree itself, Harry could see that it was in fact, several trees all bound together. The magic was almost intoxicating, it was so strong. Harry gestured with a finger, and a trail of red particles followed the motion. Several Na'vi saw this, and openly gasped at the simple display.

"Merlin," Harry breathed, shaking his head, "Earth must've been like this… before we came along."

"The energy is not like this on your world?" questioned Neytiri.

"No," said Harry, again gesturing with a finger. A little stronger this time, and a thread of energy coiled itself around his finger, much like a baby serpent. "Magic manifests itself so powerfully here."

"Why do you bring another demon here?" came a demand from one of the many openings at the base of the tree. A group of clan members stepped out of it, the leader having a more sloped face, eyes that were somewhat Egyptian in appearance, and a notch missing from his right ear. His hair was shaven on both sides—definitely a warrior of the clan.

"Mother wishes to speak to him, Tsu'tey!" Neytiri snarled back, along with a few words in their own language. The one named Tsu'tey shot both Harry and Jake a nasty look, but stepped aside, letting the group enter. 'Definitely a warrior,' Harry thought.

"Tsu'tey is next in line to lead the clan," Jake explained, as the three of them continued deeper into the tree, "We don't exactly see eye to eye." Harry only nodded, seemingly awe-struck by the truly immense size. He chanced a look back, and found the group of warriors, led by Tsu'tey, following close behind. It made sense, Harry was an unknown. Other members of the village were eyeing the group uneasily as well, for again, a human in their midst was never a good thing, at least from past experience.

The middle of the tree was like an enormous 'living' cathedral, with a massive natural spiral staircase leading into the upper parts of it, and before it, the skull of what might have been a dragon was mounted on a pole, fashioned as a sort of totem. Waiting at the base, were two Na'vi Harry guessed to be Neytiri's mother and father. Both were old and severe looking, the man wearing a necklace made up of huge claws from some alien creature—Harry shuddered at the thought of something with claws that big.

By this point, Neytiri had knelt before her mother as if in worship.

"You are the one called HarryPotter?" spoke the woman.

"Yes, my lady," answered Harry, with a slight bow of the head. Not knowing Na'vi custom up to this point, it was best to keep it simple.

"And you can wield the energy of Eywa?"

"I'm sorry, who?" questioned Harry, gesturing gently with a finger, once again causing a red ribbon of energy to flow around it. Both Neytiri's parents watched this display with fascination.

"She is the all-mother, the embodiment of everything alive on Pandora," Jake tried to explain, getting a begrudging nod from Neytiri and her mother.

"I don't know if it's the energy of Eywa," said Harry, "But it's magic. Very powerful magic." The other villagers had gathered around, trying to listen in on the strange conversation.

"You are a strange sky person," spoke the mother—Mo'at, as Harry remembered.

"Why do you call them sky people?"

"You come from the sky, in your machines, your ships," answered Neytiri. Harry only nodded, then said, "I guess I sort of arrived the same way… but I have nothing in common with those already here. I've already been warned to stay clear of them as it is."

"Then what is your purpose here, HarryPotter?" questioned the father—Eytukan.

"I honestly don't know, sir. If I did, I would already be trying to figure out how to get it done, so I can get back where I belong. I know nothing of this world, but from what little I can pick up, there's already a fight on the way."

"Harry…" said Jake, but Harry continued, "We're good at starting wars… meddling in things we shouldn't be meddling with. Like I said, even I shouldn't be here."

"This one lacks the insanity of the other aliens we have seen," spoke Mo'at, giving Harry a nod.

"Thanks, I think… although I think I border on insane at times…" He gave them a brief, goofy grin.

"You are no child, Harry," spoke Neytiri, "You have seen more than your appearance suggests you have."

"Yeah, you'd be right." Harry gestured at himself, and changed before their eyes, from his fifteen year-old appearance, to his older, twenty-seven year old appearance, including the nasty scars that marred his face. He noted a number of villagers actually stepped back in shock. The warriors guarding them had moved to draw bows in their shock. Eytukan, seeing this, held up a hand.

"You've… seen action, then," said Jake, realization filling his eyes.

"Yeah, I have. I've seen the absolute worst of both the Magical world, and the Muggle world."

"Muggle? What is Muggle?" questioned Mo'at. She had to carefully sound out the word 'Muggle'.

"Jake, definitely… it means non-magical folk. The rest of you, I don't think that applies… I mean… you can connect with animals and things, right?"

"Tsaheylu," Jake reminded, and Harry nodded. "No, definitely not Muggle, then. You all wield magic, just not in the way I do. We have that one thing in common."

"He has given us all a magical oath," said Neytiri.

"I promised her I would never threaten her or her people. I'm bound to that by my magic, except in self-defence."

"You cannot break your oath?" questioned Tsu'tey.

"No, I can't. Unless I'm attacked first."

"You are… a most unusual sky person, HarryPotter," spoke Mo'at, finally, then to her daughter, "Take him to the Tree of Voices. Help him to hear the voice of Eywa. Return here, so we may learn more of his kind."

"Thank you for your trust, my lady," said Harry, once again giving a slight bow.

"We will see, HarryPotter, we will see."

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTES**__: Well… this wasn't the next dimensional jump I had planned, but, revisiting "Avatar", I got inspired ;-) Besides, Harry was about to go bonkers dealing with Umbridge. A change of scenery was needed._

_(1) Partly taken from p. 246, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian soft-cover edition. Reworked to fit._

_(2) Info about this drawn from the "Avatar" script, one of several scenes that were axed from the final release of the film—hopefully at least one of those will be in the extended cut due out sometime in August. I may actually work that scene into T.B.I. in the near future._


	34. The Tree of Voices

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ kehlencrow, zutarakid50, Thenchick, D.J.J.L.D.H.B 'M-PC' 7th STEVE. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Chapter posted May 17, 2010_

_CAUTION: Spoilers for Avatar movie-verse._

_/__italicized text/ - Na'vi native language (Sorry folks, the translators aren't good enough yet for full dialogue—at least of what I know of.)_

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXXIII-  
THE TREE OF VOICES**

**Or, harry has a chat with Eywa… or not…**

**

* * *

**Rather than travel on foot, they rode what Neytiri called "Pa'li"… Jake called them a 'Direhorse'. It much resembled a Clydesdale horse, other than the fact it had six legs, rather than four. Neytiri rode one, while Jake and Harry rode a second one. Not surprising, Tsu'tey and two warriors followed behind on Direhorses of their own.

"Not unexpected," said Neytiri, "We travel to a sacred place. Outsiders are not welcome."

"Why not just hide it, so people can't get to it if they're not supposed to?" questioned Harry.

"We cannot… make that kind of magic," answered Neytiri.

"If I had some of my books with me… I could probably do it. There's something in our world called a Fidelius charm. It hides a place completely from view, unless someone knows the secret."

"I'll believe that when I see it… or don't," said Jake. That got a smirk from Harry.

"So what can your magic do?"

"Loads of things. There are rules, of course… but a powerful witch or wizard can do a great deal. Wish I had access to my trunk. What I've done inside it is only the tip of the iceberg—err—a small slice of what's possible," said Harry, seeing the questioning look on Neytiri's face.

"Will you show us, when you are able?"

"If I can. The thing is, our atmosphere is different. By the way, what's in the air here? I know it's dangerous, but, why?"

"As I was told when I was preparing to come here, the concentration of carbon dioxide is more than eighteen percent. You'll die in about four minutes without that bubble on your face. There's also a concentration of hydrogen sulphide… very poisonous, even with a single breath," said Jake.

"I know… I breathed the shit for a moment when I was thrown into the atmosphere. I threw on a bubble-charm on instinct."

"You have fought many battles?" Tsu'tey had rode up beside them.

"Too many to count. I wish I had a pensieve… I could show you all what I've had to fight against. Both Muggle, and Magical. But that's what happens when you get an insane individual bent on taking over the world."

"What is it like, to fight using magic?"

"I'd be lying if I didn't say it was terrifying. The war I fought, death was sometimes the release. See, the wizard I had to destroy… he and his followers liked to curse and torture people before they killed them. His followers drove one of my close friend's parents to insanity with a single curse." Tsu'tey regarded Harry for a moment, then only nodded. "Thing is," Harry continued, "As an old friend said last year, we have to one day make a choice between what is right, and what is easy."

"Your friend is wise with his words," commented Neytiri.

"Well, considering he's over a hundred and fifty years old." That got a look from both Neytiri and Tsu'tey.

"Wizards live a long time, then?" queried Neytiri.

"Yeah, it's not unheard of for a witch or wizard to live to be two-hundred… although it's rare. And with the current war… let's just say, life spans have been cut unnaturally short."

"That would be a given, Harry," said Jake, shaking his head.

"I've only been here less than a day, and already I know, there are a number of those I know where I come from, who must never know this place exists. They would exploit it as quickly as the 'Sky people' already here."

"Your kind do not exploit your world?" questioned Neytiri.

"In some ways, I guess. But witches and wizards don't waste things in a way Muggles do. We have magic on our side. We can make use of things in ways Muggles can't. Example…" Harry snatched a fruit off a tree they had just passed under. He produced his wand, and gestured at it, speaking, "Geminio!" An identical piece of fruit appeared alongside the other. "Try this and tell me if it tastes any different," he said, tossing the duplicate to Tsu'tey. He took a bite, and arched an eyebrow.

"Normally, witches and wizards can't just conjure or duplicate food… but I've never been exactly normal. The Geminio charm should only make a useless copy of the object."

Not long after, they arrived at a grove of trees that could easily stand in for willow trees, at least in a way. Long white tendrils hung low from the branches, seeming to shimmer in the early afternoon light.

"This place, it is more beautiful at night," said Neytiri, as she dismounted and unhooked her queue.

"We have something like this back on earth… called a weeping willow," said Harry, "But not like this."

"Unique," said Jake, as he also dismounted and unhooked his queue. He then helped Harry down.

"Thanks."

"Come," said Neytiri, gesturing for Harry to follow. The warriors had also dismounted, but chose to remain with the animals and observe, rather than interfere. Harry quickly followed Neytiri and Jake into the grove, the long tendrils brushing against him on more than a few occasions.

They finally came to a stop out of sight of the others.

"Merlin…" Harry breathed, as he dared touch one of the tendrils. It was literally BUZZING with magical energy. Then, he noticed something else. All around, he could hear whispers. The voices of the dead. The voices of Na'vi ancestors.

"You hear them?" Neytiri asked. Harry nodded. "We call this utraya mokri… the Tree of Voices. You hear the voices of our ancestors, who live in Eywa." She grasped the end of her braid, and allowed the queue to wrap itself around one of the tendrils. Harry watched for a moment, then produced his wand. Gripping it tightly, he pressed it against one of the tendrils.

"How quickly you learn, my child," came a woman's voice. Harry was startled to find himself, not standing in the grove, but in a vast expanse of white nothing-ness. At least he was clothed this time!

"Why am I here?"

"Shouldn't it be obvious?" the voice laughed, although it was not a slight against him.

"Sorry?"

"You can never know enough, Harry," said the voice, seriously. "There is much you still must learn, before you are ready to face your first destiny."

"I already FACED my destiny!" Harry shouted, "I was happy to just let things be, to move on to my next great adventure… to see my parents again! Why am I expected to REPEAT shit I've already faced?"

"You have spoken with me before," said the voice.

"Right… Voldemort is only my FIRST problem. But what am I doing here?" He bit down on his temper. There was no use in shouting here, it wouldn't do any good.

"There is a lesson to be learned here."

"How about a hint?" said Harry, testily, "I don't have time for these bloody cosmic obstacle courses!"

"You will understand your lesson more than quickly, Harry. Think of something you said to your new friends only this morning..." The scene was already beginning to fade. "Good luck, young mage!"

Harry found Jake and Neytiri waiting, as the world came back into focus. "What did you see?" she questioned.

"I've spoken to the woman before," answered Harry, with a little more heat than intended. That got a scowl from Neytiri, but she placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and spoke softly, "You must trust the All-Mother."

"She wants me to learn something here, that's what she said."

"You really spoke to their God?" Jake wasn't convinced. That got another angry look from Neytiri.

"Yeah… at least I think I did. But as I said, I've spoken to her before, just over a month ago," answered Harry, as they began walking back to the horses.

"You are truly a unique person, Harry," said Neytiri, as they stepped out of the grove, to the waiting Direhorses and warriors.

_/Did he speak with Eywa?/_ questioned Tsu'tey.

/I believe he did,/ answered Neytiri, _/This one is blessed twice by the All-Mother./_ Tsu'tey arched an eyebrow at this revelation. The boy had spoken with her before, away from Pandora?

"Let us return to Hometree," said Neytiri, re-connecting her queue with one of the animals. Jake quickly copied her example, then helped Harry onto the back of his mount. Only seconds later, the party was off, retracing their steps back to the village. The ride was for the most part in silence, as Harry ran over the spirit's words many times in his head. 'I just wanna get back home!' he thought, frustrated.

Of course, that would mean dealing with Umbridge. He mentally cursed at himself for losing his temper again. But it was just so hard not to! The woman was infuriating to Harry just by existing. He'd thought about sitting a single detention, then having her charged. Yet, that wouldn't work, not with Fudge in control. As much as he hated to admit it, the DA would need to be formed sooner rather than later.

Back to the current situation, there was no way of doing any of those things while he was stuck on Pandora! Worse off, the safety item he carried with him was broken. That would be the number one focus, then. The door had to be fixed. Everything else would have to wait.

"Harry?"

"Sorry… what was that?" Harry snapped back to the present, the ever-plodding motion of the Direhorse swaying him side to side.

"You'll need to remain with Grace at Hometree," said Jake, "There's still stuff Neytiri has to teach me."

"That's fine… I have a magical item to fix. There are people back in my own world that'll be very worried about me by now."

"What was it anyway?" questioned Jake, "It looked like pieces of a door off a miniature model or something."

"A door is exactly what it is. It's just been shrunk down… but the thing is, I don't know if it can be repaired or not."

"Shrunk down?"

"A shrinking charm. Makes things easier to carry, take up less space and weight. Of course then I can put a feather-light charm on stuff as well."

"Your magic, it is versatile," said Tsu'tey.

"Like I said, it's convenient, and sometimes exciting. When I first learned I was a wizard, it was astounding in some ways, I suppose. The thing is, I learned over the years, that the magical world is just as messed up as the Muggle world, with the same problems.

"There are a good number of witches and wizards who believe Muggles are beneath them. But I think it's just out of fear of not knowing. Our world is about a hundred years behind in their understanding of Muggle culture. They don't know what Muggles are truly capable of. They don't realize how dangerous Muggles could be if they discovered we exist, and decided we shouldn't—if that makes any sense."

"I know a few people who would make that conclusion," said Jake.

"And bluntly, if they attack me, it'll be the last mistake they make," said Harry, darkly, "I've got no patience for dragon shit. I'll curse them to atoms." Jake let out a sigh hearing this. He knew there would be a confrontation long before Harry left for his own world. 'At least,' he thought, 'It won't be with the Na'vi.'

When they arrived back at Hometree, Grace was surrounded by young Na'vi, all of them laughing and giggling. Once back on the ground, Harry gestured to himself, restoring his younger appearance, and approached the group. "You taught them?"

"For a while," answered Grace. The kids seemed quite interested in Harry.

"You can change your appearance at will?" asked one of them.

"Yeah, pretty much. It's a type of charm."

"A charm?" inquired another.

"Well, a charm is like this…" Harry gestured to himself again, and his hair changed to look somewhat like Jake's. "It's called a glamour charm."

"I would be very impressed should you change your appearance to look like one of us," said Neytiri.

Harry arched an eyebrow. Could he pull it off? Their size was twice his. They were heavier and lankier. Just pulling off a complete glamour was a challenge as it was. To become a different species, humanoid or not, that was something altogether different. He focused on Jake's appearance, carefully taking in what a Na'vi should look like, getting that firm picture in his mind. He closed his eyes, willing his magic to make the change.

Giggling and laughing brought him back to reality.

"Well," Grace managed, "A good start, I suppose." Harry frowned, conjuring up a full-length mirror, and snorted at the 'changes'. Sure, he'd managed to turn his skin blue, and change an ear, but that was it. He banished the mirror, then gestured at himself, saying, "Finite."

"Still impressive you can do that," said Neytiri.

"It takes a few tries to get something right. How about this one?" Harry smirked, and his clone appeared.

"Shall I stick around?" it questioned.

"No. Just wanted to demonstrate," said Harry. The clone gave a quick salute, and vanished.

"Holy shit!" Jake swore. The others were doing a very good imitation of a goldfish at this point.

"Quite useful for being in more than one place at once," Harry grinned.

"He… he keeps all your memories and knowledge?" questioned Grace, once she regained her composure. Harry nodded, answering, "He's an identical copy of myself, with my knowledge and memories up to the time he was summoned."

"What happens when he's… destroyed?" questioned Jake.

"It's called a merge. I get his memories and experiences. The longer he's around, the more… uncomfortable that is. It's like getting a flood of memories all at once."

"What happened to the mirror?" questioned one of the children.

"It returns to its original state."

"You can't just create something out of nothing, Harry," Grace challenged. Harry only grinned, and said, "What is air?"

'O', Grace mouthed.

"Took me a while to grasp that concept. Conjuration is an advanced form of Transfiguration," Harry explained, "Or, changing one form into another. May I see that book for a moment?" He pointed to a first grade text book Grace had. She passed it to him, and he set it on the ground, gesturing at it with a hand. It shifted shape, to become a ferret. Harry had to smirk, remembering a certain event the previous fall. The children were all enthralled by the small creature, having never seen a terrestrial animal before—at least nothing live and in person. He gestured again, and the animal returned to its previous state.

"What about turning it into an animal that lives here?" questioned an older boy.

"I could, but the only animals I know of up to this point are either really big, or rather dangerous," answered Harry, handing the book back to Grace. He turned back to the boy, asking, "What's your name?"

"Lrrtok Fkeu," answered the boy.

"Mighty smile," Jake translated. The boy grinned, and nodded.

"Let's try something… if you don't mind?" he indicated to Neytiri, as he drew his wand.

"You believe we may use your magic?"

"I don't know. You want to try?" Lrrtok Fkeu nodded. "Great. Look how I'm holding my wand… it's important." A number of others were then watching the strange interaction. "Now… grip it like I showed you," said Harry, passing the boy his wand. He gripped it as shown.

"Good. Now… I want you to think of a light coming from the tip of it, and speak, 'Lumos'… lu-MOS. Say it with me…"

"Lumos!" said both Harry and Lrrtok Fkeu. A dim light appeared at the end of the wand.

"Exactly. See, I told you. You're all very magical people."

"How do I get rid of the light?" questioned the boy.

"Nox," answered Harry.

"Nox," the boy parroted, and the light vanished.

"You have taught before," said Neytiri. Harry nodded, saying, "Yeah. We had a terrible teacher in my fifth year of school… she wouldn't teach us anything, so my best friends talked me into running a sort of study group."

"Could I… try that?" questioned Jake. Harry nodded, and attempted to pass his wand to Jake. It resulted in Jake getting a nasty shock, falling backward rather awkwardly. Tsu'tey, watching a short distance away, gave a nasty smirk. "Skxawng," he muttered.

"Definitely not magical," said Harry, shaking his head, and summoning the dropped wand.

"Thanks for the warning," Jake muttered.

"I didn't know what would happen. It could have gone one way or the other."

"Jake… there is still much to show you," said Neytiri. Jake only nodded, and the pair left.

"What does 'skxawng' mean?" questioned Harry.

"It means moron," answered Grace, as Harry took a seat on the ground.

"Jake and Tsu'tey don't get along very well."

"No. Tsu'tey is especially distrustful of us as Avatars. But that's what happens when you shoot the people you're tying to make peace with," said Grace, darkly. Harry frowned at this piece of information. Things had gotten violent here before, then?

Of course, he'd seen THAT kind of thing before. His first time around, the Ministry had restricted the Centaurs so much, they finally revolted, resulting in a massacre. Of course, it had been Voldemort's doing, to further demonstrate the danger of half-breeds and beast folk.

Harry stood up, and conjured a small, simple table and a seat. The villagers were curious, but they kept their distance, as Harry set out to work. He retrieved the small moleskin pouch from his pocket, and dumped the contents out. The door was busted into six pieces. A simple repair charm might actually do more damage than good, possibly disrupting the charms placed on it already, and making the object utterly useless. He would need to speak to the twins about making the doors unbreakable for the future. 'Then again,' he thought, 'Dumbledore's fixed complex magical things before.' He thought carefully of the wand movements. It wasn't so much in the incantation, but the will of the magic. He drew an intricate pattern over the pieces, and… FWOOSH! There was a flash, and when the smoke cleared, ashes were all that remained of his only known way back home. Harry blew out a deep breath, and banished the table along with its charred remains.

* * *

As it neared sunset, Harry found himself high in the branches of Hometree, staring across the vast expanse of rainforest. It was truly beautiful, he had to admit. But still, in the back of his mind, he knew he needed to be elsewhere. Even to just reconnect, and assure everyone he was okay. As long as people knew he was okay, they would take care of things so people who needed not to know of his affairs were kept in the dark, or were fed misinformation.

His mind wandered back to that afternoon's discussion with the ancient witch, or possibly what the people here called 'Eywa'. He was unsure of who he'd spoke with. It still came down to the fact he was facing not one, but two different destinies. He knew full well what the first was: destroy Voldemort. The second? He had no inkling. The first three jumps, all he'd done was collect people, for Merlin's sake! He now had a trunk full of people from three separate dimensions. At the rate he was going, he was going to have a virtual town living in wizard space.

Of course, for just about every individual who now called the trunks home, he could blame himself for them being there—Billy being the only exception. The shipping container would certainly make it easier, but surely some people were getting cabin fever, being shut in for so long. He strongly doubted 'collecting people' was his second mission, and made a silent vow that NO ONE from this current dimension would be calling his trunk home.

"Norm is expecting you back at the research station." Harry looked up to see Grace standing a short distance away, several of the kids following.

"Right… I know my way back there. Let Jake and Neytiri know I'll be back in the morning," said Harry, standing. His legs felt as if they'd gone to sleep, from sitting in one position too long. He shook it off, gave a slight twist, and vanished with a noisy CRACK.

He reappeared just outside the research station. The sun… or Alpha Centuri, as Harry now knew, was fading below the horizon, as nightfall was settling across the land. He wasn't exactly tired, but a good night's rest was a good thing, giving him more time to think of his current problem. He stepped into the air lock.

"So? How was your first day on Pandora?" questioned Norm. he was seated at a small table, a digital tablet of sorts in front of him. One of their computers, Harry guessed.

"I found out a few things," said Harry, flopping down into a seat across from him, "Namely, your employer has no business being here. The Na'vi are magical people. The only difference between me and them, is the way they interact with their magic."

"Their queues, you mean?"

"Partly. I felt the memories of people who are long gone, felt a level of love and understanding none of us will ever reach in our lifetime."

"You visited the Tree of Voices?" Norm arched an eyebrow. "Harry, no human has ever been allowed into a place like that."

"Great, just one more thing to make me 'special'," Harry snorted.

"Why do you have such a contempt for being different?"

"I hate being a celebrity… back in my own world, that's what I am. I'm either called 'the chosen one', or vilified by the Wizarding world. I'm in a 'vilified' stage now, I think."

"That sucks."

"And you know, the funny thing is, I feel this great need to be there, rather than here… to go home. I really shouldn't. I saw and spoke with people today who… after seeing what I was… they left it at that. They don't expect anything from me, to live up to some lofty expectation like the Wizarding world does." Just then, noise came from the other side of the container.

"Hang on, someone's coming out of link. If it's Grace…"

"Right." Harry watched Norm get up and disappear through the short corridor linking the two modules that made up the research station. More noise, and muffled voices. A minute later, Norm, Jake, and Grace entered the module.

"You still didn't tell me what Eywa said to you," said Jake.

"There's a lesson I need to learn here," answered Harry, "I spent a good portion of the day just reflecting on a few things. If the people can tolerate me, it's likely I'll have business here for a long time."

"Unlikely the Na'vi will let you," spoke Grace, a smouldering cigarette in her hand.

"'scuse me," said Jake, "Gotta make a report." He wheeled his way over to a workstation at the end of the module.

"Right. I'm gonna get some rest," said Harry. He got a backward wave from Jake, as he stood up.

Like the night before, Harry took the upper bunk. The layout somewhat reminded him of Matt's bus when they had first met. The major difference, was in the fact this was not meant for recreation, and had the minimal of amenities. The people who used this facility weren't here for a holiday, after all. Harry crawled in under the covers, and blew out a breath. He could hear Jake, describing some of the things he did during the day—although notably, he left out any communication with Harry—that was a good thing. The guy knew discretion after all. He didn't remember hearing him finish.

* * *

Harry woke to a loud thud just after sunrise the following morning.

"Huh? What was that?" came Norm's sleepy voice.

"s'just the wildlife," Grace muttered. Harry, however, shook the cobwebs out of his head. "I heard it too," he said, climbing down to the floor.

"Time to get up anyway," said Jake, surprisingly crisp for someone only just shaken awake. Harry gestured to himself, becoming instantly dressed. A quick cleaning charm, and he was set for the day.

"Lucky bastard," Jake muttered, as he prepared to hoist himself into his wheelchair.

"Want a hand?" Harry offered, but Jake waved him off. "Let me check out the noise. Be right back." With wand out, he again twisted on the spot, and vanished with a POP.

He landed just outside the modules, took two steps, and stopped dead. Jammed into the ground at an odd angle, was one of his trunks.


	35. Cultural Exposure

_Shout-outs to reviewers from last chapter:__ zutarakid50, Retse, Thenchick, and kehlencrow. Thanks for your comments/reviews. Also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Chapter posted May 21, 2010_

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXXIV-  
CULTURAL EXPOSURE**

**Or, Harry further connects with the Na'vi people**

**

* * *

**"What is it?" Harry turned to find Norm looking over his shoulder.

"It's one of my trunks," answered Harry, feeling significantly better. It was the same trunk they had used to link with Billy's world.

"How did it get here?"

"I don't know… magic, I guess."

"Is that always gonna be your answer?"

"Likely," Harry smirked, gesturing with his wand, shrinking the trunk down to the size of a shoe box. "Let's get back inside."

Back inside the research station, both Grace and Jake noticed the change in Harry's demeanour. "What put you in a good mood?" questioned Jake.

"This," said Harry, putting the miniaturized trunk on a nearby work station, "This is what woke us up."

"A shoe box?" Jake snorted, but Harry only smirked, saying, "No, not just a shoe box. This is a link into my home."

"So… how do you get into it?"

"If it was full-size, I could just climb in through the lid. But as it is right now, I have to apparate."

"So that's what you call it… when you disappear," Grace guessed.

"Yeah. You might know it as teleporting."

"So it's instant?" Norm asked.

"Almost."

"How far can you go?"

"Well, the better question is, how far can I apparate _accurately_? The greater the distance, the less accurate it is. A jump from London to Edinburgh, I'll generally get where I plan to land. A jump from London to New York, on the other hand… I'd likely end up miles off target. I would stand a fifty-fifty chance of landing in the Atlantic."

"Can you take people with you?" questioned Jake.

"Yeah, that's called side-along, and it makes it a little more difficult."

"Harry… d'you think I might be able to draw a small blood sample?" questioned Norm. Harry sighed, knowing that sort of question would come eventually. These people were scientists, after all.

"Fine. I don't know what you expect to find."

"Satisfy their curiosity," Jake muttered. He was busily scarfing down his breakfast, obviously in a hurry to get back to his avatar body. Harry had to smirk inwardly at that. He fancied Neytiri, and judging by her body language, the feeling was mutual. How in the world would THAT ever work?

Meanwhile, Norm had retrieved an item that looked like a pen from one of several field kits stacked in the cramped module. "This will prick the end of your finger… I just need a drop."

"I know what it does, I've had to deal with Muggle medicine a few times."

"Ready?" Norm pressed the end of the 'pen' to Harry's thumb.

"Just do it." Norm pressed a button on the pen, and it made an audible 'click' sound. Harry didn't move.

"You didn't feel that?" questioned Norm, as a drop of blood welled up on the end of the thumb.

"When you've been nailed many times over with the Cruciatus curse, that was about as annoying as a mosquito bite."

"Cruciatus curse?" questioned Jake.

"It's the most painful thing you can ever imagine. It's like your entire body is on fire. You can't think about anything other than the pain. All you can do, is scream. It can literally drive the victim insane."

"The Na'vi would suffer something similar if their queue was cut off," said Norm, as he collected his sample, "It's all nerve, covered by the braid."

"No, this is far worse. That would be intense pain, but in one spot. Just imagine, that intensity, on every square inch of your body."

"Have you cast it on someone?"

"Several times," answered Harry, "It's not something I'd do lightly… it's called an unforgivable for a reason."

"As interesting as this discussion is, village life starts early," Grace reminded.

"Get ready, I'll help you with your links in a sec," said Norm, as he put the sample of Harry's blood on a slide. The others were off into the other module, while Norm put the slide under a microscope.

"Still don't know what you expect to find," said Harry, as he followed Norm into the other module.

"Just curious. Never seen a wizard before, you never know," answered Norm, with a shrug. Jake was already hoisting himself and his useless legs into one of the link chambers, while Grace was manipulating its controls.

"Calibrating. Thirty seconds," she spoke.

"Neytiri says I'm almost ready to choose a banshee," said Jake.

"Don't keep her waiting," said Harry, with a smirk. He got a rude gesture from Jake in return, and a laugh from Norm.

"I'll be checking in with my friends, let them know I'm okay. I'll be back shortly," said Harry, "If anyone back at Hometree is wondering, feel free to let them know."

"You see them as friends?" questioned Norm.

"Of course!" answered Harry, "Anyone who doesn't see me as some sort of freak or the answer to their troubles, they're okay by me." Jake only nodded, and pulled the lid on the link unit closed. Norm was already calibrating the unit Grace would use.

"Right… I gotta go. Have a good day guys." Harry gave a half-twist, and vanished with a slight POP.

"Still freaky when he does that," said Norm.

* * *

Landing in the entry hall of the third trunk, he wasted no time passing into the second, then finally into his original school trunk. There were voices coming from the dining room, and that's where he headed, banishing the bubble-charm from his face.

"Harry!" Hermione almost shrieked, leaping out of her seat. Matt and Bill were on her heels, as he found himself almost smothered.

"Air… guys… need air…"

"What happened? Where did you end up this time?" questioned Bill, as they finally separated.

"You aren't gonna believe it… but it's an alien world, place called Pandora."

"You're still connected to it?" questioned Lily, from her portrait.

"Yeah, mum, the third trunk is still in their world. I've made a couple of friends."

"Come, you must eat," Molly insisted, ushering Harry to a spot at the table.

"Sounds good to me, Muggle freeze-dried food isn't all that appetizing." He guessed it was breakfast time, or just after, but gestured with a finger. "Tempus." '7:12 a' wafted from the end of his finger.

"Harry, why didn't you use the door we gave you?" questioned George.

"I would have, had it not been busted into six pieces. I tried to repair it, but I ended up turning it into a pile of ashes. You guys might want to put unbreakable charms on them from here on out."

"We have a couple more of them finished," said George.

"I'm finished, let me grab it," Fred offered, getting up.

"Great. I'll likely be hanging around there for a bit… there's something I'm expected to do, although I don't know what it is just yet—"

"Harry! That doesn't make any sense!" Hermione challenged.

"If you'd let me finish. I spoke to the same people, or one of them, as the ones I did when Voldemort nailed me with the killing curse after he was resurrected in my aunt's back yard. So it's not as if I can say 'no'."

"What about your classes?"

"I'll send my clone to keep up. But there's classes I'll miss anyway… I wasn't kidding when I said I would be skipping Dark Arts Defence," said Harry, as a plate appeared in front of him. Three pancakes, toast, eggs, a few slices of bacon, and two sausages.

"We were both in a state when you suddenly vanished, Harry," said Matt, "Holy fuck… one second you were there, the next…"

"I know and I'm sorry. I'd sent my clone to stay with you guys… I had some business to take care of involving Peeves… it was just better to do it myself. Filch walked in on me just after I'd left the payment for Peeves… and next thing I know, I'm falling through some alien atmosphere. If you guys want to follow me there, you'll need to brush up on your bubble-charms. The air's poisonous to us."

"Where's the trunk now?"

"In some sort of scientific research station. The air in there is safe to breathe."

"So what's it like? The people are human?" questioned Hermione, seemingly forgetting the underlying issue of Harry being missing for nearly two days.

"The natives aren't human. There are humans trying to colonize the planet—or moon, actually… but the natives are resisting that, and I don't blame them. Actually… after I eat, I have something to show you… and I need Dumbledore's advice on it." Just then, Fred re-entered the dining room, and placed another miniaturized door beside Harry's plate. "I've charmed the door in the entry hall to match this one," he said.

"Great, thanks guys. It'll make the connection a little easier."

"You think it's wise, connecting an alien world in that way?" questioned Remus. Both he and Sirius had remained quiet up to this point, although both were more than relieved Harry was okay. Their faces spoke volumes.

"I don't think it'll cause a problem. Not to mention, I can lock it as I've done with the one connecting us with the Gryffindor dormitory. And as I said, where the trunk is stored now, they're pretty much aware of what I am."

"You've exposed our world to Muggles… again?" questioned Lily.

"Mum. Their planet… Pandora… the magic there is insanely strong. Stronger than it is here, or at Hogwarts… and before I landed on Pandora, I thought Hogwarts was the most magical place anywhere. Shows how much we know."

"It still doesn't give you the right to just tell anyone about Magic, Harry."

"I know, Sirius… I just went with my gut. The people I've met so far are good people, they won't betray my secrets. I think they're more interested in seeing what I can actually do… much like the native people. They… they are definitely magical, just, they don't use magic like we do.

"The thing is, though, they're very distrusting of humans. I don't know exactly what the human colonists have done, but it can't be anything good. It took a strong magical oath before they even BEGAN to trust me."

"So what are they like?" questioned Matt.

"About nine or ten feet tall, long, lanky bodies. Ears and noses like a big cat—lion or tiger's. Yellow eyes, and a tail. Some of them speak English, but they have their own language. Hunter-gatherer type of people who live an uncomplicated life. Some ways, I envy that."

"Ten feet tall? No way," said George.

"I swear it on my magic," said Harry. It wasn't an official oath, but he knew it would stand up if it had been the case.

"Merlin."

"Like I said though, they're very distrustful of humans," said Harry, between bites. It was good to have home-made solid food again. Yesterday's experience with 'mystery food' was something to forget.

"You sound like you're itching to get back," said Remus.

"I guess I am," answered Harry, "It was nice waking up yesterday morning, not dreading having to deal with Umbridge… by the way, did anything happen while I was away?"

"Nothing really, but she's gonna start inspecting the other teachers Monday," said George.

"Keep your heads down, guys. And I will be setting up the Defence Association sooner rather than later."

"Don't use the Room of Requirement like you did the first time," said Bill, "Why not use the Chamber of Secrets? She'd never catch you that way." Harry nodded, and said, "Good idea. We'll have to move the shipping crate elsewhere then. Hmmmm… maybe move that one to Pandora. It would blend in with the research station."

"Harry."

"It won't do any harm there, and even with the DA, there are still people I really don't want to know about the trunk system."

"Why not miniaturize it like you did with the others?" Matt suggested, but Harry shook his head. "No, I'd rather keep it as it is. It's such a big object, so shrinking it down and re-expanding it too much could screw it up, knowing my luck."

"It sounds like you plan on keeping a long-term connection with this new world you've landed in."

"Possibly. How else will I keep in touch with my new friends?"

The others at the table knew this was a lost argument. If Harry wanted to do something, it was just about impossible to change his mind. The rest of the meal was spent with Harry answering questions to the best of his knowledge, although a lot of the time, it was, "I don't know." After all, being in Pandora for less than two full days gave him no chance to form an opinion on things one way or another.

"Right," he said, as the plate vanished, "I'll be back in about five minutes. I'll install the door, and I need to fetch something. Could someone floo Dumbledore, and let him know I need his opinion on something?"

"Got it," said Remus, standing.

"Great… I'll be back shortly."

"I'm coming," said Matt.

"Matt…"

"I'm coming. I don't care how dangerous it is!"

"Fine. But I'm only going for a few minutes, we're coming right back."

They crossed into the second, then into the third trunk.

"Grab my arm," said Harry. Matt already knew what he was about to do, and quickly grabbed hold of his arm. Harry twisted on the spot, and they vanished, with a somewhat noisy CRACK.

They reappeared in the research station's cramped living module. Norm looked up from the microscope, giving Harry a nod. He blinked, seeing the stranger. "Who are you," he asked.

"Norm, this is Matt, one of my partners. Matt, this is Norm, one of the people who… well… live and work here." Norm got up, crossed the short distance, and they shook hands.

"We're really in another world?" questioned Matt.

"Step outside without a bubble-head charm, and you'll find out," answered Harry. "We'll go outside later. Right now…" Harry pulled the replacement door out of his pants pocket. "Where could we put this?"

"Does it need to be in a doorway?" questioned Norm.

"No. just a blank section of wall."

"That'll be a challenge to find in here," Norm snorted, "Unless it can be leaned up against a window."

"Don't see why it couldn't," said Harry, "Although, we could probably set it up outside, but the problem with that would be setting up a containment ward. I'd rather my friends not suffocate the first time they come through."

"Put it there." Norm gestured to a window beside the airlock. "Grace ain't gonna like that, I'll tell you now."

"We'll sort out something more long-term. I don't want to intrude on you guys more than I have to," answered Harry, as he re-enlarged the door. As soon as it was set against the window, there was a brief POP sound, and the door instantly changed its shape, to appear like a second airlock, except for the fact it didn't have a keypad like the real one.

"Holy shit!" Norm was shocked. Harry only grinned—he suspected it would camouflage itself, but hadn't been entirely sure.

"The Weasley twins… their work is almost an art form," said Harry.

"When they're not pranking people," Matt muttered.

"Right. Okay, Norm. Ready to see some 'real' magic?"

"And this ain't?"

"Harry… the other thing."

"Oh. Right. Could I borrow the Unobtanium sample? I want to show it to someone."

"I… probably shouldn't. Don't be long with it, Grace will chew me a new one if she finds out I let you handle it, let alone take off with it," said Norm, opening up one of the field kits. He retrieved the sample, and was about to hand it to Harry.

"Actually, hold on it, you can come with us anyway, now that we're connected. As I said, ready to see some 'real' magic?" At Norm's nod, Harry pushed open the door. It swung inward, rather than outward, like the real airlock.

Norm actually did a double-take. The other side of the door was an entry hall of sorts, with a lengthy corridor. At the far end, a door lay open. They travelled through both of them, landing into yet another entry hall. This one had a set of stairs off to one side, and a ladder leading to a closed hatch. An arch defined the separation between it and a main room. He could easily see some of the furniture, with a pair of archways on either side leading off into other parts of the… residence?

"I think you broke him," Matt smirked.

"Tickling charm then?"

"N-no, that's… quite all right," Norm managed, as the three of them stepped into the first trunk. "Where… where are we?"

"This is my home," answered Harry, "It's actually a series of trunks—you saw one of them already."

"But how? Magic can really just… blow holes in the laws of physics?"

"Well, magic has rules of its own," Harry explained, "Like, there is a limit to how much I can expand things. The entry hall back there is the separation between two trunks. This one's been expanded pretty much as far as it'll go—once we enlarged the study… I can't get an inch more out of it. Things like, you can't bring back the dead… it's not as free and open as you might think."

"Ah, Harry…" Dumbledore stepped into the room from the hallway leading to the study.

"Professor."

"I understand you've been off on another adventure… and you've made a friend or two, I see."

"Yes sir," answered Harry, "Norm, this is Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the school I attend. Professor, this is—"

"Doctor Norman Spellman, sir," Norm answered, offering a hand. The headmaster shook it. "My friends call me Norm."

"Sir, I just need a few moments. Norm… show him the Unobtanium." Norm only nodded, and fished the said item out of his pocket. "This is a mineral found on Pandora. We call it Unobtanium, because until recently it was, well…"

"Unobtainable," the headmaster finished, doing exactly as Harry did a day and a half earlier, gesturing at it with his wand. "Most peculiar. I daresay, this is a concentration of magic beyond anything I've ever laid eyes on."

"You're saying, it's pure magic, in physical form."

"Exactly, Harry. I must ask, what kind of magical activity is there on Pandora?"

"It's stronger than Hogwarts, professor, and not just in places. I mean, everywhere."

"That would mean, the superconductivity properties of Unobtanium are more magical, then," said Norm.

"Which means, Muggles are messing about with magical substances, professor."

"Yes, agreed. I leave this question for you, Harry. What would you do with that knowledge?"

"I don't know. Isn't this a breach of the Statute of Secrecy?"

"You people don't belong in my dimension though," Norm threw in, "This 'statute' of yours… isn't there limits on jurisdiction?"

"Also a good question. If you wish to actually enforce the statute, Harry, it would be up to you and you alone. I shouldn't have to remind you of your obligations here as well."

"No sir."

"Just keep that in mind. Is it your place to interfere? Everything happens for a reason, my boy." He handed the mineral sample back to Norm. "Exercise caution."

"I am, sir."

"Perhaps if I have a spare moment I might come for a first-hand look at this strange world you've landed in—satisfy an old man's curiosity."

"You'll need a bubble-head charm. The air's rather poisonous there."

"The gravity's about twenty percent less than that of Earth," Norm added, "And the atmosphere's a bit more heavy."

"I wondered about that," said Harry, "It took some time getting used to. The lighter gravity… that would explain why the Na'vi are so tall, then."

"Just about all the wildlife on Pandora is up-scaled by at least two."

"I'll leave you to it, then. Do be careful, Harry." Dumbledore walked over to the floo, stepped into it, and activated it. He vanished in the green flames, to Norm's horror.

"I think… I'm gonna need an asprin or two…" Norm muttered, "What the hell was that?"

"The floo network. He just went back to his office."

"So he's not dead?"

"No, of course not!" Harry laughed. He looked at Matt. "I'll leave my clone with you guys tonight, since we're connected again."

"Why does your clone disappear anyway?" questioned Matt.

"I don't know… maybe it's the disruption or something when I'm being hurled across dimensions. Even though he's separate, he's created through my magic, and somewhat attached to me, that's the only explanation I can think of."

"Can you send each other messages?" questioned Norm.

"Yes. Nothing complicated, but quick questions, or quick memories."

"Bloody useful," said Matt.

"Matt… you're going off again?" questioned Owen, stepping into the common room.

"For a bit."

"He missed me," Harry smirked, getting a scowl from Owen.

"I'd better get back to my side of the door," said Norm, "If someone comes out of link…"

"Yeah… we'll be along shortly," answered Harry, then to Matt, "Need to get a couple things from our room, and stop by the study."

After retrieving his Firebolt from the room, they stopped by the study. It was rather quiet, but then again, it was early on a Sunday morning, so not too many people would be up and about just yet. Sirius and Remus were the only people present.

"Harry… you're absolutely glowing… what's happened to you?"

"Magic," answered Harry, "Yesterday was one of the most frustrating days I've had… but also one of the most peaceful, all in all, I think."

"Maybe he's high on magic," Matt snickered, to which Remus answered, "Not as far-fetched as you might think, Mr. Tyson."

"And given the place has so much magic it's actually manifesting in a hard, physical form…" Harry pointed out.

"Is that so?" Sirius arched an eyebrow.

"Dumbledore pretty much confirmed it. The Muggles are mining the stuff… calling it Unobtanium… they want it because of its superconductivity."

"Muggles tampering with magical substances? Why doesn't the Ministry of Magic get involved there?"

"Sirius… I don't think they HAVE a Ministry of Magic in their universe. Whatever they did on Earth there, it killed all the magic there."

"So what's to stop them from doing the same thing on Pandora?" Matt pointed out.

"My thoughts exactly. The thing is, I'm one Wizard, against… I don't really know how many Muggles. They seem to be years ahead technology-wise."

"Whatever you decide to do, kiddo, we'll back you."

"Thanks, Sirius. Somehow, I'm gonna be dragged into the middle of this… whatever 'this' is." He thought for a moment, then said, "There's a door connecting us to the Muggle research stations on Pandora. I'll be keeping the security setting tight on it, at least until I give everyone proper warning about it… and that'll likely not be until I understand exactly what kind of dangers exist on Pandora."

"So you're gonna go flying around on your broom," Matt deadpanned.

"Harry…"

"I know… that's why I'll be casting a disillusionment charm on myself before I take to the air."

A minute later, Matt and Harry were back in the research station.

"Remember how to cast the bubble-head charm?"

"I think so." Matt drew his wand, and gestured at his face. A bubble half-formed, then fizzled.

"Try again. You have to get this before I'll take you with me."

"Loveshack this is Samson One Six Inbound," came a female voice. Norm punched a button on the communications console. "Loveshack, copy." Releasing the button, he said, "You guys can't be here, she's likely bringing more than just herself. Here, use this… you put it on like so…" He quickly demonstrated the use of an exo-pack, critical equipment for a human to step out into Pandora's atmosphere.

"Thanks," said Matt, and he quickly donned the offered equipment.

"Ready?" questioned Harry, as he pulled the door back to the trunk closed.

"Let's go," said Matt. Harry grabbed his arm, and they vanished with a loud POP.

They appeared in the upper branches of Hometree, which for the moment, was deserted.

"Where are we?"

"This is the Na'vi village, their 'Home tree' as they call it. But we really need to find out how many Muggles are here on Pandora."

"They can obviously talk to each other… we just saw that," Matt pointed out, "What about 'borrowing' one of their computers?"

"I'd rather not make enemies out of the scientists," Harry rebutted, "If anything they've been gracious about my presence. They sure as hell didn't need to be. They could have just turned me over to security, or whatever force they have here to keep the peace."

"Then maybe the first thing to do is find out what they really think of all this. What's their plan?"

"Sounds like solid logic to me."

"So are we gonna fly, or what?" questioned Matt, looking out across the far-reaching tree canopy.

"Thought you'd never ask." Harry retrieved his shrunken broom from his pants pocket, and restored it to its original size. He held it level, then mounted it. "Climb on."

With Matt seated behind him, Harry kicked off, leaving the safety of the massive branch.

"Holy shit this is high," Matt realized.

"I know… the tree's gotta be a thousand feet high, easily," Harry answered. He tapped himself over the head, and then Matt. "Best not to be seen. Ready?"

"Ready," Matt answered. Harry nudged the broom forward aggressively, and they were gone like a shot. The broom vibrating warned him he'd reached the maximum theoretical limit for it. He was rather surprised; the heavier atmosphere had no effect on the broom's performance. 'Chalk it up to magic,' he thought. They made a wide arc, and circled around Hometree, slowing down to half the speed so they could both get a good look at the tree and its local environment. They could see a good number of people moving about on the ground.

"They're really blue. I thought you were joking about," said Matt.

"What I told you earlier, it was the truth."

"Harry!" Matt shouted. Harry had just enough time to manoeuvre the broom, to avoid a head-on collision with a Na'vi riding a banshee.

"What the fuck was that?"

"They're banshees. The natives ride them like we ride brooms, I guess… but something tells me taming one is rather dangerous."

"You and me alike. I'll stick to a broom, I think—um… Harry…" He felt his head being nudged up slightly. Startlingly, there were dozens of the bird-like animals circling.

"Wow, talk about crowded airspace." He nudged the broom down, and they descended, until they were just above the tree canopy. "Rather not suffer a mid-air collision with one of those things." He turned the broom around, so they were heading back toward Hometree. "Hey… see the one in the burgundy halter-top?" It took a moment, but Matt answered, "Yeah… you know her?"

"Sort of. C'mon, I'm gonna play a prank."

Grace had been more than ecstatic, being able to once again attend Hometree, and reconnect with the children she had taught. She sat with a group of them now, in a soft patch of grass, flipping between speaking in English, and speaking in Na'vi. She had to begrudgingly thank Jake for making it happen. It had been a stunning blow, when the school had been 'closed down'.

Suddenly, she felt something flick her left ear, and as she turned to see who or what was responsible, something grabbed her tail, while something else flicked her braid.

"Hey!" she snapped, wheeling around to confront the prankster. She caught a glimpse of something that looked small and human, but it was gone as fast as she'd seen it.

Still disillusioned, Harry tapped himself on the head, cancelling the charm.

"'morning, Grace," Harry grinned. A second later, Matt also materialized, as did the broom. They were riding at eye-level to her.

"I should've known," she muttered. She started, realizing they were in fact actually riding a broom. "Oh good grief…"

"We're wizards…"

"And witches," Matt threw in.

"What did you EXPECT us to ride, vacuum cleaners?" That got a smirk from Matt, and a scowl from Grace.

"What is… va-koom… clean?" questioned one of the children.

"Ummm… it's a machine… you wouldn't like it, and you don't need it," answered Grace.

"Yeah, really noisy. Humans use them to keep their homes clean. But like Dr. Augustine said, you don't need something like that. Your home is beautiful as it is," said Harry.

"But you're a sky person! Don't you have to keep your house clean?" questioned an older girl.

"No. I use magic," answered Harry, with a grin. He lowered the broom to the ground, and they both dismounted. "Grace… this is one of my mates, Matt. Matt… Dr. Grace Augustine."

"Glad to meet you."

"You mate with another man? Why?" asked an older boy.

"Why not?" questioned Harry, "Would Eywa deny it if you fell in love with another boy?"

"I… I do not know."

"I was honoured with a chance to speak with Eywa. She's not always direct in her words and wishes, but to deny love? No, definitely not." He smiled, then said, "This probably isn't the best kind of conversation to have with most of you. You'll understand when you're older. Just realize, love is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. It doesn't care about race, religion, or whatever… it just is." He realized Grace had taken to translating for him, as he'd started using more adult words. Still, the children were looking at him with understanding, and a new respect.

"Love helped me to defeat one of the darkest, scariest people to ever walk the earth and wield magic," Harry continued, "So don't ever doubt the power of that emotion. It's raw, and it's just as real as the magic I wield. It's in us all, and sometimes, it rules us." Harry felt two arms wrap around him, and he was enveloped in a tight hug.

Watching the pair, Grace gained another level of respect for the young wizard. Whatever had happened to him, he had the ability to command respect from those around him. Just the way the young Na'vi were looking at him spoke volumes. He'd just taught a valuable lesson, something the kids would remember for the remainder of their lives. He landed on this strange world with no prejudice, with no misgivings. He treated the Na'vi as equals, and was rapidly earning their respect, something very few humans had done before. The thing was, when push came to shove, whose side would he take?

* * *

That evening, Jake and Neytiri practically dragged Harry and Matt up to the common area, where many of the villagers were gathered around a bonfire. This was obviously their meal time. Introductions were made, but there was no issue, as the people saw Matt was with Harry.

"You are mated with Harry, MattTyson?" questioned Mo'at.

"Yes ma'am. Well… not officially, but I hope to, someday."

"I've got three partners," said Harry, "One of which has been hurt badly. I haven't been able to speak to him in over a month."

"And where is the third?" inquired Tsu'tey.

"He's got an assignment back in my world. But you'll meet him eventually."

"Taste this," said Grace, passing him a chunk of meat.

"What is it?" questioned Matt.

"Talioang," answered Tsu'tey.

"We call it sturmbeest," said Grace.

"A fresh kill, it is good," spoke another hunter. Harry only nodded, and hesitantly took a bite. The meat was a little tough, and tasted a little wild, but Harry nodded again and smiled. "S'sgood, thank you," he spoke, then to Matt, "Wanna try it?"

"Sure." Once again, the others watched as Matt took a sample of the 'native cuisine'. He held his breath, removed the exo-pack mask, stuffed a chunk of meat into his mouth, then shoved the mask back on, so as not to breathe the dangerous atmosphere. Only when the mask re-sealed itself did he dare actually chew the bite. "Mmm, not bad," he said.

"At least you know where it came from," said Jake.

"Matt… we gotta work on that bubble-charm… that thing is a nuisance. Anyway, in the magical world, our food is usually pretty fresh too," said Harry, "In addition we've got preserving charms to keep things fresh. Came in right useful during my hols with the Dursleys."

"Still don't see why you protect them, Harry."

"They're blood. They may not have been all that nice to me, but they kept me safe from Voldemort, and they're the only blood family I have left, the only link back to my mother," Harry explained.

"You have no mother?" inquired Mo'at.

"Not directly. My parents were murdered when I was just a baby," said Harry, "Because I was one of two children referenced in a prophecy that was made by a seer just before I was born. An evil wizard set the prophecy in motion by killing my parents. He gave me this when he tried to kill me." He lifted his hair off his forehead, revealing the infamous scar. "This is my destiny. I have to kill the wizard who gave me this." He took another bite of the offered roast sturmbeest. "Hmm… this is actually quite good. Anyway… my life's not been easy. I've had to face things that would likely scare the hell out of an adult, let alone a child. Would any of you have a child go out into the forest with a hunting party? Or face ikran?" His question was met with alarmed faces and muttering in their native language. "When I was twelve, I had to face a creature that could kill with just a gaze, whose poison could kill in minutes. The following year, I faced creatures who could suck out your very soul, leaving only a living, but useless shell behind." Grace had taken to translating again, as he used larger words. "Last year, I faced a dragon… something three times the size of ikran. Something that can fly, can swallow a man whole, and breathes fire. I escaped only because of my flying skills."

"Toruk," Neytiri breathed.

"No. Nothing like the animals you have here," answered Harry, then, "You have something as big as a dragon?"

"Toruk," answered Grace, "Or Great Leonopteryx. They stick to the mountains, and are as big as one of your dragons. Leave out the 'breathing fire' bit." Somehow, Harry knew he was going to be answering more questions later.

"Great." Harry didn't sound impressed.

"You fly?" questioned Eytukan, "On what?"

"Here," said Harry, passing Matt the leaf-plate, then stood up. He reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out his miniaturized Firebolt. He tapped it once with a finger, re-enlarging it. "My godfather gave this to me almost two years ago as a gift." He moved a little closer to the fire, so he had more space, then straddled his broom. He floated up just a bit, then lowered back to the floor, and dismounted. "Not exactly a good place to be flying, but you get the idea."

"You must fly with us tomorrow, HarryPotter," spoke Tsu'tey.

"If I can. It would be an honour. But tomorrow, I may need to be elsewhere, back in my own world."

"Your magic is very strong. You have connected your world with this one?" questioned Mo'at.

"Yes. I won't say where, and I will say this much. The people I call friends on the other side will not be a problem here. I trust them all, or they wouldn't be in my home. You honour me by inviting me here." That was met by many warm smiles. Sure, they found his magic rather unnerving in places. Yet, this human was not like any other they had ever encountered up to now.

The next thing Harry realized, both he and Matt were sprawled out on the floor, the fire having died out to a few glowing embers. The others had all disappeared to another part of the tree. He stared up at the ceiling. 'If I had my way, I would stay here and never return.'

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTE: Edited to fix missing text, May 21, 2010. Thanks to Thenchick for pointing this out.  
_


	36. A Message Received

A Message Received

_Thanks __for your comments/reviews since my last posting, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Chapter posted May 24, 2010 (Happy Victoria Day, to my Canadian readers! FYI to others, this is Queen Victoria's birthday today, hence the reason for our holiday. It always falls on the weekend before May 24__th__. Victoria would be 191 years old if she were still somehow alive.)_

_Caution: Coarse language, spoilers for "Order of the Phoenix", and "James Cameron's 'Avatar'"_

_/Italicized text/ - Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXXV-  
A MESSAGE RECEIVED**

**Or, Voldemort's mission to the ministry doesn't go as planned**

**

* * *

**Monday passed with Harry spending part of the day in class. He got more than a few questions as they queued up for potions, but he gave non-answers. What business was it of theirs, what he was doing with his time? The Slytherins seemed less interested in provoking him… maybe it had to do with the fact he was single-handedly destroying any chance of Gryffindor winning the house cup that year.

The class went without incident, and at the end, Matt and Harry's strengthening potion looked as good as Hermione's (It was a potion which required more than one class session to complete). Rather startling, he had earned another 'A' on his essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes.

"I take it you'll be… elsewhere this afternoon," Hermione guessed, as they headed up toward the Great Hall.

"Yeah. I'm taking lunch you know where, then I'm back to—where I spent my day yesterday," answered Harry, very much aware there were others within earshot.

"Will we see you at supper?"

"Doubt it. I'll likely pop in later, but not for long."

"You're planning on skipping class again?" Seamus muttered.

"Yeah, I do. I've quit Divination, and I won't put up with a useless teacher with some sort of vendetta against me. I'll sit my OWL at the end of the year, and hope she goes elsewhere."

"You're costing us a load of house points, Potter. Every class you miss, never mind skipping detentions!"

"Does it look like I really give a shit about house points?" Harry snapped, "There's shit going on you don't know about, stuff that's far more important than petty house-rivalries. Matt, let's go." They stormed off, with Ron and Hermione close behind, leaving Seamus and Dean behind, wondering what Harry meant.

Once back in the dormitory, Harry again passed through the door into the trunk.

"Right, guys. I'm going back to Pandora. As I said, I might come back for a bit during supper, but it's not definite. I don't need to say it, but… keep your heads down."

"We know, mate," said Ron, then, "Wait… I don't have a class after lunch… not until DADA."

"Ron… I'm not ready to bring you guys through yet. This weekend… you're gonna learn how to cast a bubble-head charm."

"Or get started early," said Hermione. Harry could see the wheels turning in her mind already.

"Good. If you guys want to join me there, you'll need to know how to do it. Matt. You have the wand motion right… give it a try." Matt only nodded, producing his wand. He gestured at his face, muttering the incantation. This time, the bubble appeared, and stayed.

"Good, very good. You won't need the exo-pack today." They were already into the dining room, pulling up seats.

"Matt… bring your fourth year Dark Arts Defence text book. We'll work on that material for the afternoon, since that's the class we're supposed to be in."

"Right." Matt thought for a moment, then said, "How does Umbridge plan on both inspecting the other teachers, AND teach her own classes?"

"Well, she doesn't have classes all the time," answered Bill, "I'd know, considering I have to stand watch over the woman's classes."

"Sorry," said Harry.

"As it stands, she doesn't have a class following lunch."

"Come with us then. My only warning, be ready for anything. I've seen only a fraction of their world."

"Harry. I'm a curse-breaker. That comes with the territory," Bill reminded.

Once lunch was over with, the three of them travelled through the second trunk, then into the third.

"Ready to see Pandora?" questioned Harry.

"When you are." Bill gestured at his face with his wand, producing a bubble-head charm. Matt had already done so.

"Grab my arms, guys." The three of them vanished with a noisy POP.

Bill had to blink several times to get used to the brightness. He found himself very high in the branches of a tree. The branch itself was enormous.

"Merlin, Harry… where are we?"

"This is the natives' village."

"They live in a tree?" Bill arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah. And it's awesome, the biggest tree I've ever seen. Come on, I'll introduce you to a few people."

"They're okay with us being here?"

"Very much so. I think I'm the first 'sky person' they've been able to trust implicitly—they refer to humans as 'sky people', because they came from the sky. As far as I know, they don't include us in that description. They know I'm not here to interfere or impose. The only thing I might want from a place like this, is a bit of peace and comfort."

"Harry's in love with the place, I think," Matt snickered.

"Is that so?"

"Maybe," said Harry, "Can't you feel the magic humming around you?" Bill paused for a moment, then nodded. "You're right… very strong. Like I'm coming up to some powerful wards."

"It's like that everywhere, Bill. I mean, here's a little stronger, but I think it's because this is the clan's home. There's another place I went, the magic was almost intoxicating, it was so strong."

"I think I can see why you've become drawn to this world, Harry. Just remember, you have a life in our world, not here. It won't do to spend all your time here."

"But that's just it, Bill!" Harry exclaimed, "What life do I TRULY have in our world? Everyone has ridiculous expectations of me, to be their saviour, their scapegoat the next? I've dealt with Voldemort once already, and here I am, having to deal with him a second time! Maybe I don't feel like living a nightmare a second time over!" Several screeches from above made him look up. A banshee had thrust its head through the branches, wondering what the noise was.

"What the hell is that?" questioned Bill, getting his first look at a native animal of Pandora.

"It's an Ikran, as the Na'vi call it. A mountain banshee in English. That one's likely someone's ride. The ones people are bonded to roost up here," Harry explained. It was a nice distraction, he came to realize. Harry conjured up a chunk of meat such as had been served the previous night, and tossed it to the animal, who gulped it down in one swallow.

"C'mon, let's go below. Best not go down through the tree, since the elders haven't met you yet," said Harry, "Side along."

They appeared moments later at the base of the tree, with a noisy CRACK. Most clan members knew by now Harry was able to move from place to place in such a manner, and so the few in the immediate area weren't significantly startled by their appearance. Introductions to the elders went smoothly, and like Matt, Bill was welcomed into the village. The Na'vi were somewhat startled by Bill's hair—they had not seen a human with red hair before.

Bill spent the next hour with Matt and Harry, as Harry continued to teach Matt the lower-year material. Bill helped out where he could, as they practiced on the shore of a large lake a stone's throw from Hometree. Noting the time, Bill simply vanished with a slight POP, and returned to the trunk.

* * *

That evening had been some of the most fun Harry had in quite some time, with Bill showing off some rather advanced magic for the villagers. He and Harry had both demonstrated their Patroni, much to the amazement of everyone. To Harry, his stag actually looked a little more intense. Perhaps it was the strength of the ambient magic. Then again, he'd noticed a slight increase in the power of his spells. Would that carry over back in his own world, he had to wonder. Jake and Neytiri, along with Grace, had already retreated into the upper part of the tree, and slowly but surely, the other villagers were following suit.

"You plan on staying here again?" questioned Bill.

"Yeah." Harry had conjured up a few comfortable blankets and some pillows. "Stay with us?"

"Harry… I think you know the answer to that one."

"I just wish… Cedric could see this. It feels wrong, him not being able to be here with us."

"It'll get sorted, mate," said Bill, "We'll get him back eventually."

Mo'at and Eytukan were among those still awake, and heard the whispered conversation.

_/If there is a way, we must help them,_/ said Eytukan.

_/It is not our place to interfere, Eytukan. If Eywa wills it, then so it must be./_

* * *

"Harry?" Harry heard the voice, distant, amongst his dream of flying with the Ikran. The second night in a row, his dreams were pleasant, not clouded with the horrors of the 'first time around'.

"Harry, wake up." A little more clear this time.

"Jake?" Harry yawned, trying to shake the fog out of his head.

"Harry… something's wrong in your trunk."

"What!" Much more awake now, he dragged Matt and Bill to him, and not thinking, also grabbed what he thought was Jake's arm. They disapparated with a very loud CRACK.

"Ow…" Harry heard Jake say, and the sound of someone being sick.

"Harry! What the hell?" Bill exclaimed, leaping to his feet, wand out.

"Ditto," Matt muttered.

"Harry? Come—" Hermione stopped dead. "Who… WHAT are you?"

"Err… Harry…" said Bill, finally putting his wand away. Harry was finally awake enough to realize what he'd done.

"Fuck."

"No… it's, it's okay," said Jake, although it was clear he wasn't breathing as easy. "That felt… very wrong," he managed. Harry was already checking himself over. "Am I missing anything, guys?"

"Yeah, a clump of hair in the back."

"Fuck, splinched myself."

"You did what?" Jake questioned, finally looking at Harry. He was looking quite green—whether it was from being sick, or from the atmosphere, it was questionable.

"Harry, who… or what is this?" Hermione demanded again. She looked rather frazzled, likely from being woken suddenly herself. Voices were wafting in from the main trunk.

"Hermione, this is Jake… he… this is one of the natives from Pandora," Harry said, matter-of-factly, "Now. What's going on that was so urgent you had to drag a friend out of bed to come get me?"

"The whole Order's been assembled. Voldemort struck in several places just after midnight, they won't tell me any more than that, just to come find you."

"Jake… you all right to stay here? I can have Bill take you back to Hometree."

"N-no, it's good. I'll feel it later, but… it's fine."

"Where's Neytiri?"

"Still asleep."

"Come on, then… best to introduce you to a few people."

"What did you mean by 'splinched'?"

"I left a clump of hair behind when we apparated." That got a raised eyebrow from Jake.

"That was one of the most fucked up feelings I ever felt. I almost 'woke up'."

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to drag you along… but I was half-asleep, it also explains why I splinched myself. That's something I don't do very often—at least until recently." The five of them were passing through the second corridor, Jake having to stoop so not to hit his head on the ceiling. Hermione kept giving sideways glances at him, and Harry knew she'd have a barrage of questions when she had a chance.

The study was abuzz with activity when they arrived. The room fell silent, seeing Jake.

"Eh… hi," he managed.

"D'you mind waiting there?" Harry gestured to the couches in the sunken part of the room. "Bloody hell, full Order meeting."

"I'll look after him," said Hermione.

"Hermione, he's probably not up for a million questions at this hour." The room broke out into whispers and muttering, as the initial shock wore off.

"It's all right, I can manage."

"I'll get you a pepper-up potion… Matt… you know where they are right?"

"Got it."

"Great." Harry took a seat at the table, while Matt left the room. "What happened?"

"Harry, we need to move your relatives somewhere safe," said Dumbledore.

"And you want to bring them here," Harry muttered, "Great. Just great. Again, what happened?"

"Voldemort struck a number of different targets just after midnight. That's as much as we understand it," answered the headmaster.

"My relatives were included."

"They were. Your cousin has been taken to St. Mungo's suffering from the effects of the Cruciatus curse. It'll likely be a few days before we can move them."

"Bill… go add them to the floo. Although I'm probably gonna regret that later."

"Harry, you can't hate them that much," said Sirius.

"No, it's not me I'm worried about. Where's Jiro and Zack?"

"We didn't disturb them," answered George.

"It's Jiro I'm worried about. In their world, apparently my relatives treated my with much more depravity then here. I'll need to have a discussion with him, probably sooner rather than later." Just then, Matt walked back into the study, bringing a pepper up potion. He gave it to Jake, then returned to the table.

"If there's any good that might come of this," said Lily from her portrait, "I might have a word with my tart of a sister." That got a snort and a smirk from Harry, and Jake did a double-take. A moving, talking portrait? Now there was something you didn't see every day!

"What about the other attacks?" questioned Harry. Bill, meanwhile, was knelt in front of the fireplace, adding Harry's relatives to the floo access. He was about to add Harry's aunt, when the floo roared to life, and Professor Snape stepped out of it. He tottered forward a step or two, then thumped to the floor, unconscious.

"Professor!" Hermione gasped.

"Mr. Weasley, please floo to the hospital wing and fetch Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore directed. Bill nodded, and activated the floo, vanishing in the green flames. Jake was shocked beyond belief, watching this unfold. A man had just appeared in the fire, then fell unconscious. Then someone had just vanished in the fire? What the hell? He realized a this point he wouldn't be getting any answers. Hermione was already kneeling at the dark-robed wizard's side. The man was actually twitching, even though he was unconscious.

"He's been cursed many times," said Hermione.

"Voldemort must've been enraged to go that far," said Harry, "The attacks… he went after something, the attacks were likely just a diversion."

"And you would be right, Potter," spoke Moody, "There was an attack at the ministry. Like you warned would happen, he got into the Department of Mysteries."

"So my message has been delivered," said Harry, quietly.

"Harry, you pissed him off, that's not a good thing," Remus chided, "He's unpredictable at the best of times, you may have made it worse!"

"Did Fudge see him this time?"

"No, he was gone before Fudge was called to the ministry," said Tonks, "More than a dozen Aurors were killed this morning." Just then, the floo roared to life again, and Bill stepped out of it. He was immediately followed by Madam Pomfrey, who brought her medical bag with her. She started, seeing Jake, but her eyes flicked immediately to the incapacitated professor.

"Oh dear," she said, kneeling beside Professor Snape, "This is extreme exposure to the Cruciatus curse." She reached into her medical bag, and drew out a potion. She opened the professor's mouth, and poured it in, messaging his throat, getting him to swallow it. "Mr. Weasley, would you mind lending a hand? He needs to be moved to the infirmary so I may better treat him," said Madam Pomfrey. Bill only gave a nod, then levitated Professor Snape's unconscious form. They disappeared through the floo, with Madam Pomfrey immediately following.

"What about the other targets?" questioned Harry.

"All Muggle. Six families attacked, we were able to prevent the deaths of one, but that was it," answered Tonks, "The Ministry's investigating."

"They'll try and pin it on Sirius, like they did last time," said Harry, shaking his head. He blew out a breath. "Gods, I can't escape this mess, even for a night."

"Harry, we're sorry… but you asked to be warned if something happens."

"I know, Sirius, and in the end it was good you let me know, no matter WHAT time it was… it's just frustrating. Voldemort is moving faster than he did last time, and the ministry still chooses to ignore it."

"It's probably best if Mr. Weasley stays here. He knows where you're at when you're visiting your new friends, I take it," said Dumbledore. Harry nodded in agreement, and said, "Yeah, probably best." It was clear he wasn't happy about it, but at the same time, he understood it was the best course of action. "What we need, is a way for you guys to contact me without having to chase after me."

"I might have something to help," said Sirius, "If I could get to my vault."

"Sirius…"

"I can help him get there," Remus offered.

"I have a pair of two way mirrors."

"I know. That would be perfect," said Harry, "Just… be careful. And until we get those, I'll have Bill stay here. He knows where I'm at most of the time."

"We have something else that can help," said Jake, finally daring to throw himself into the conversation, "I'll have to talk to Grace, but we have small radio transmitters you can secure around your neck, something like a necklace."

"That would be perfect," said Harry.

"Who are you exactly?" questioned Tonks.

"Everyone, this is Jake Sully, one of my new friends from Pandora. It was a good thing he knew where we were in the end, I guess."

"Harry, we just wanted to make sure you were informed. If you'd like, why not take your friend back to his world?"

"I'll check in later then."

"Just leave your clone," Matt suggested.

"Good thinking." With a slight shift and a blink, the doppelganger appeared.

"Stay here with the meeting. I'm taking Jake and Matt back to Pandora." The clone gave a nod, and Harry stood up, Matt immediately following suit. The clone took Harry's spot.

"If anything, he can pass on anything important."

"The mirrors are still important," said the clone.

"Yes, agreed."

"You've got no idea how absolutely crazy that looks," said Jake.

"What?" Both Harry and the clone said, simultaneously.

"Oh Merlin," said Fred.

"We've been outdone again," said his twin, as they cried mock-tears. Harry smirked, and said, "Right, fine."

"How long will this potion you gave me last?"

"A couple of hours—shit. Matt… fetch me another pepper-up potion."

"Got it."

"When we get back to Hometree, I'll cast a sleeping charm on you. But when your… well… when you wake up… you'll need to take another pepper-up potion."

"Leave that one with Grace. She'll make sure I take it when I wake up."

"Good enough for me." He remembered his aunt hadn't been added to the floo, and so knelt in front of the fireplace. "Addendum, Petunia Dursley." The fireplace shimmered green for a moment. "All right. Let's go then."

Less than a minute later, they were back in the common area of Hometree. It was still deserted. Jake took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Earth air was difficult to breathe."

"No doubt," said Harry, "Again, sorry about that, holy shit… I just… you said there was trouble in my trunk, I thought the worst. Being half-awake, I forgot you were in avatar form. You're okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Okay. I'll pop back over to the research station and leave this with Grace." Harry indicated the pepper-up potion.

"That stuff tastes like shit, by the way. You said something about a sleeping charm or something, right?"

"This'll work better," said Matt, passing him another potion.

"Good idea," Harry agreed, "Drink that after you lay down, it'll make you sleep. I wouldn't suggest using all of it… half of it will probably do. In the mean time, we'll leave a pepper-up potion with Grace. It'll get you through the day later."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you later then," said Jake. He headed for the spiral ramp leading to the upper parts of the tree.

"Let's drop this off at the research station then," said Harry. They vanished with a slight POP.

"Is Jake going to sleep?" questioned Grace, as soon as she saw them arrive.

"Yeah. I gave him a sleeping potion to help him rest quickly. Make sure he takes this when he wakes up from his real sleep. It'll give him a boost and help him make it through the day."

"It's safe?"

"No known side-effects. Wizards have been using the stuff for centuries," Harry explained.

"Good enough for me, I suppose," said Grace, "Although I'd love to get a sample under the microscope."

"Please don't open that. I'll give you one later, if you remind me." Harry could hear a link module opening in the other compartment. "Jake's back, I think… We're gonna get back to sleep."

"Yeah, go… we'll see you later this morning."

* * *

When Harry woke up again, he found himself snuggled up against Matt, who was still sound asleep. Some of the villagers were up and about, with the fire crackling at the centre of the room. He suddenly realized why he'd woken up. His clone had just woke up too. 'Attend class today?' came the mental question.

'No. I'll be there shortly and we can merge.', Harry sent back. He then prodded Matt. "Matt… gotta get up."

"S'too soon," Matt muttered.

"We got class today, mate." Immediately following, Harry's stomach let out a low growl. "And it's time for breakfast."

"Right."

"Mr. Potter!" Harry wheeled to see Grace storming into the common area, a nasty scowl on her face, her ears tucked back, much like an angry cat would do. She was PISSED, and Harry knew it. "Just what the HELL were you thinking, taking one of us into your world? Don't you realize how EXPENSIVE this shit is?"

"Grace… it was an accident," said Harry, trying to douse the fire.

"I don't care! You could have destroyed his avatar!"

"But we didn't. I forgot he was in his avatar body."

"Look," Grace said, a little more calmly, "We spend millions of dollars on machines and research, so we can be here. You still don't know everything behind what we're doing."

"Is Jake okay?"

"Fine, thanks for asking," said Jake, walking into the common area, Neytiri in tow. He frowned at Grace. _/Why don't you yell a little louder? I don't think the Ikran heard you well enough./ _There were a few laughs and snickers from some of those seated around the fire.

_/We had this discussion already this morning, Jake./_

_/And I don't think those around us appreciate this kind of disturbance./ "_You blast me for not knowing how to handle myself, how to behave here? NOW who's the hypocrite?"

"Guys! Enough. Look, I'm sorry, it was an accident. Look at it this way, at least I know you can survive in my world, perhaps a little uncomfortably, but you won't keel over and die just from being there," Harry pointed out.

"We still don't know the long term effects, Harry," Grace rebutted. "Just be a little more careful next time."

"When I told her what happened, she wanted to come give you hell right there and then. I didn't think that would go over well," said Jake.

"No, not really. Now… I need to get back into the trunk for breakfast. I'll be attending classes today, so I probably won't be back in until sunset." Harry banished the pillows and blankets as they stood up. "Have a good day, guys."

"Kìyevame," said Neytiri.

"Sorry?"

"It means, 'good bye, see you soon'," Jake translated.

"See you soon," said Harry, as he and Matt linked arms. They vanished with a loud POP.

Charms was one of the classes Harry had no issue with, and it passed by without incident. Harry had been able to complete the in-class task very early in the period, and spent the remainder of it tutoring Matt with lower-year material. He was somewhat relieved Umbridge had not chosen to inspect the class.

That relief was short-lived as they entered Transfiguration. Professor Umbridge was seated in a corner of the room, with a clipboard in hand, appearing ready to take notes. Interesting, her hair seemed to have taken on a purple tinge in some places. 'Hmm… was it Peeves, or the twins?' thought Harry.

"This ought to be good," Ron smirked, as the four of them took their usual seats.

"That'll do," said Professor McGonagall, as she marched into the room. She ignored Umbridge altogether, but instructed Seamus to return the homework. "Miss Brown, please take this box of mice–don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you—and hand one to each student—"

"Hem hem," said Professor Umbridge, making Harry want to strangle the woman right there and then. Professor McGonagall simply ignored her. Seamus silently handed Harry and Matt their essays back—both were relieved to have scored an 'A', although Matt's was marked in a number of places.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely—Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention—most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be—"

"Hem hem," said Professor Umbridge.

"Yes?" said Professor McGonagall, turning to face the High Inquisitor. Her face said it all: she did not like this intrusion on the part of another teacher one bit.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspe—"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," answered Professor McGonagall, turning back to the lesson. A good number of students smirked and shared looks of glee. This was gonna be good! McGonagall continued, outlaying the objectives of the lesson. At least, until Umbridge interrupted her again ("Hem hem.")

"I wonder," Professor McGonagall snapped, turning on Professor Umbridge, "How you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Professor Umbridge looked like she'd just been slapped. She said nothing, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard, and began scribbling furiously. Professor McGonagall was not moved by this behaviour, but continued the lesson.

"As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with you mind on your dinner. So—you know the incantation, let me see what you can do."

"Right," said Harry, "This is a tricky one. Just like she said, it's the same principle, it just requires much more focus. Watch closely." Harry gestured at the mouse with his wand. "Evanesco!" The mouse promptly vanished. Matt drew his wand, and practiced the wand movements several times, with Harry carefully correcting him. "Remember, this is advanced stuff for you, but you can do it. You already know how to do the bubble-head charm, that's NEWT level."

"Right. Evanesco," said Matt, gesturing at the mouse. It vanished, save for its hind legs and tail. Harry let out a laugh, gesturing at the visible part of the mouse. There was a small POP, and the mouse reappeared.

"Where does it actually go?"

"You've seen me splinch myself, right?" questioned Harry, in a low voice. Matt nodded. "It's a similar principle. If your cast isn't strong enough—your intent, that is, parts get left behind."

"Five points to Gryffindor, for a spot-on explanation, Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, then, "You've vanished your mouse?"

"Yes professor."

"And an additional five points, then. Mr. Tyson, let's try again then…"

Professor Umbridge didn't move from her corner during the lesson, but wrote many notes on her clipboard. When the lesson ended with the bell, only then did she dare approach the Professor's desk.

"And Mr. Potter, stay behind," she said, as the group was about to leave, "—no, the rest of you may go."

"No," said Harry, "If you have something to say to me, Professor, you'll say it with witnesses present."

"I must ask where you've been spending time outside of class, Mr. Potter."

"And I must ask, Professor Umbridge, what business is it of yours?" Harry shot back. Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes at this, but Harry figured it was only a half-effort.

"Students aren't permitted to leave the school grounds unless they have permission from the—"

"Unless they have a guardian's permission, Professor. Since I have adult rights, I don't NEED a guardian's permission. Am I right, Professor McGonagall?"

"Indeed, Mr. Potter, that is the rule."

"So why, Professor Umbridge, are you questioning me on what I can and can't do? Or is it yet another lame attempt to 'catch me out of bounds'?"

"That'll be—"

"See, Professor, I know who sent the Dementors on me back at my relatives' place. You better hope I can't prove it."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Potter?"

"No, it's a promise. I'll put it in Queen's English for you. I hate your guts, Professor. _Lockhart_ was a better teacher than you are."

"I think another weeks' detentions might serve you well."

"Detention? What detention?" said Harry, with a thin smile, his eyes dancing dangerously. Professor McGonagall furrowed her brows at this, but said nothing. "Good day, Professor McGonagall," he finished, giving his head-of-house a weak smile.

"yes, off with the four of you."

"I didn't—" Professor Umbridge began, but the four students were off before she could finish.

Harry mentally groaned as the group arrived at the edge of the forest for Care of Magical Creatures. 'Right, she inspected both classes, back to back,' he remembered. Professor Umbridge was already there with her clipboard, speaking with Professor Grubbly-Plank. He'd heard this discussion the first time around.

Once class got under way, she wandered about, asking questions from the students individually, and testing their knowledge of magical creatures. Harry smiled inwardly, knowing that as with last time, the class didn't let Hagrid down. The change, however, came at the end of class, when Professor Umbridge continued to interview Professor Grubbly-Plank, and more specifically, when she asked Goyle about accidents during class. Goyle gave a stupid grin as before, but Malfoy didn't move to fill in the details.

"That was Draco," Pansy Parkinson jumped in with the answer, "He was attacked by a hippogriff."

"My own fault, Pansy," answered Draco, quickly. Pansy looked like she had been slapped. 'Why was Draco defending that oaf of a professor?' she thought. Harry had to grin at this. Draco was doing the right thing this time around.

"Well I thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that's all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days."

"Jolly good," said the professor, and Professor Umbridge set off back across the lawn to the castle.(1)

* * *

"Harry. Maybe we really need to think about setting up the Defence Association," said Hermione, over supper, "No one's learning anything from that awful woman."

"I know, Hermione. I need to speak with a couple of people back in Pandora once I finish supper. I won't be dragging shit into their world without permission—that's why the others are banging heads with them, I think."

"You're still thinking of moving the fourth part of the trunk there?" questioned Bill.

"If we're to use the Chamber of Secrets, yeah. I can also then set up a more proper connection between it and Pandora, so we're not imposing on the Muggle scientists. I don't think they appreciated us barging in at whatever ungodly hour it was this morning."

"Yes, about that, Harry," said Sirius, sliding what looked like a pocket mirror across the table, "You'll want to keep that with you all the time. I have its mate."

"Perfect."

"Harry! Just the guy I wanted to see," said Jiro, pulling up a seat across from him, "We hear you've landed in another world. It true?"

"Yeah. But I'm not ready to take many of you there yet… the world's not all that safe. The environment itself is toxic without a bubble-head charm."

"I know how to cast that, Harry."

"Guys, just hold off until the weekend. Then I can have someone from the other side come and have a chat with everyone here, explain some of the dangers and so on. I really would rather not lose anyone there, if you get what I mean."

"But, well, what's it like?"

"It's like, everything's been scaled up to double the size. And the magic there, it's insanely strong."

"And the individual who joined you this morning was one of the natives?" queried Remus.

"Yeah. That was Jake, but he's kind of special. I won't tell you how, it's his secret to tell. But pretty much, that's what they're like."

"They were, unique," said Hermione.

"Get used to them, they'll likely be joining us from time to time, once I can find a way to make it more comfortable for them to be here."

"Because of their atmosphere," Jiro guessed.

"Their world is about twenty percent smaller than Earth. Lower gravity and so on. So the atmosphere would be a part of the issue."

"You could probably charm something that could automatically apply a feather-weight charm to the wearer," Hermione mused, "The difference between our atmospheres might be a little more difficult… but we could try coming up with an alternate for the bubble-head charm." She gestured at herself with her wand, producing said charm. "Ron's almost got it, I've been tutoring him during lunch."

"Good work. Once he gets it right, the both of you can come with us."

"But—" Jiro protested, but Harry held up a hand. "There are more reasons than just learning the bubble-head charm. One of which being, I don't want you opening your mouth and offending these people."

"Harry, I try, okay?"

"I know, you're actually getting a little better at holding your tongue… just… just wait until I can get Norm or Grace to come have a chat with everyone. Hermione and Ron have been my best friends since I started Hogwarts, I trust them implicitly. That also goes for Matt and Bill, and Cedric."

"This weekend, then."

"I should warn everyone, it'll likely be early, like six or seven in the morning."

"Have them come for breakfast, then," suggested Sirius, "I'm sure Molly won't mind making breakfast for a few more."

"No, no doubt there," said Harry, with a smile.

"And Harry, I'll see if I can find anything about modifying the bubble-head charm for your friends."

"They're called Na'vi," said Harry, "And it's unlikely they'll really want to visit here. Not that I won't offer."

As soon as he got back to Hometree, he sought out Jake and Neytiri, them being the first people he encountered on Pandora.

"I need to speak with your mother and father," Harry explained.

"Harry, you not need to ask to speak with mother and father," said Neytiri, "They welcome you as a friend."

"It's only polite."

"Come then, they should be in the common area. Will you be staying with us again tonight?"

"If no one minds. I can't put a finger on it, but I feel comfortable here… more so than sleeping in my own bed, believe it or not." That got a smile from Neytiri.

"Likely your magic interacting with the natural magic here, I bet," said Matt.

"It feels very different, I'll say that. It's like, a feeling I've not felt much in my life," said Harry, as they ascended the spiral ramp, leading up to the common area.

"Na'vi culture focuses much on family and community," said Jake, "That's one thing I've learned real fast."

"Family… now there's one thing I've not really had… at least not until I met the Weasleys—Bill's the oldest of their children."

"That would explain the feeling, then, Harry," said Matt. They entered the common area, where a good number of the clan had gathered as was the usual in the evening.

"Mother, father," spoke Neytiri, "HarryPotter has something to ask."

"You did not have to seek out my daughter, to speak with us," said Mo'at.

"I felt it better safe than sorry," answered Harry, "But I have something to ask. I wish to bring something here… something from my world. It would make it easier to connect here directly, but it's also rather large. I didn't want to just do it and upset your people by doing so."

"How big is it, Harry?" questioned Jake.

"You know your research modules?" Jake nodded. "About the size of one of those." Neytiri explained that quickly to her parents, in her own language. Mo'at and Eytukan discussed it for a few moments, then Mo'at turned to Harry. "We will allow you to bring your object into our world, but remember this, we are trusting you to not disrupt the balance here."

"Which is why I'm asking if you might have a suggestion where to put it."

"Beside the research station," said Matt, "We can put a disillusionment charm on it, right?"

"Brilliant. I'd rather the 'sky people' not get too nosy." Looking at Mo'at and Eytukan, Harry said, "Thank you for allowing this. There is stuff going on in my world, where, the object I'm bringing here—I'd rather it not be found."

"Best hiding place ever," Matt smirked, "Out of this world!" That garnered a swat from Harry. "Hey!"

"You must eat with us," said Tsu'tey.

"I actually already had supper," said Harry, "We just came from there. I'd be honoured to stay though."

"At least try a little, it's my kill," said Jake.

"Your first?" Matt guessed. Jake nodded.

"Well done," Harry praised, as a few villagers shifted over and made room for them to sit down.

"You must fly with us tomorrow," said Tsu'tey, "JakeSully will take Iknimaya." He gave Jake a nasty smirk. The amount of open hostility between them was palpable.

"Sure," Harry agreed, "Guess I sort of promised I'd come fly with you, but… things have happened in my own world." He blew out a breath. How much did he tell of his trouble back at Hogwarts?

"What is Ikin—something?" questioned Matt.

"Iknimaya," said Neytiri, "it means 'stairway to heaven'. Every young Na'vi hunter must bond with Ikran, it is one of the final trials to becoming one of the people."

"If he doesn't get himself killed in the process," said Grace, sourly, who was sitting on the opposite side of the fire.

"I'll be here then. I'll send my twin to class back in my own world. Matt, probably better if you attend class as well. If toad-face decides to inspect a class and you're not there…"

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm surprised Umbridge hasn't tried to expel me yet. But I know that'll come eventually."

"Who is this Umbridge?" questioned Neytiri, carefully pronouncing the dreaded teacher's name.

"She's a teacher at my school. The Ministry of Magic assigned her in hopes of discrediting me and the headmaster. She's been making my life at Hogwarts difficult. It actually ties in to why I need to move the container object here. The woman refuses to teach us anything useful this year, so I'm setting up an extra study group to fill in the gap."

"Will you be moving the door from our research station?" questioned Grace.

"As soon as the container is moved here. I will do it early tomorrow, before we leave for… for Iknimaya," said Harry, cracking a weak smile at having pronounced the word properly.

For yet another night, Harry found sleep amongst the Omaticaya clan. Whether it was magic, their connection with each other, or the tremendous feeling of family and belonging, it was something the Boy-Who-Lived longed for deep inside. For a little while, at least, he was able to satisfy it. The question was, how long would that last?

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: I will point out here, there will be no Na'vi slash, sorry to disappoint, if you were expecting it. Not that I don't think it could happen, but for this story, in the 'Avatar' universe, you'll only find canon pairings—and they definitely won't be a focus. However, my mind does wonder what some Harry/Jake… um… erotica… might be like… *smirks* Or maybe Harry/Tsu'tey… or not…_

_I'm also taking a bit of artistic license here with regards to Na'vi being able to breathe Earth air at all. At least I didn't have it where they just arrived and could breathe with no problems. Of course, Harry will work on a solution to that, just in case our new blue friends might decide to visit Harry's world more frequently._

_Also, a heads-up that I may not have a new chapter out on Friday, as I may be quite busy. But regular postings will continue, for the next little while at least. I'm working four chapters ahead, and the material's coming pretty easy. So next posting will likely be in a week's time.  
_

_Finally, I'm still wondering what Dean was doing to the mouse that made McGonagall give him such a sharp warning. *snickers*_

_(1) Parts of this taken from p. 286 – 287, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian soft-cover edition. Adjusted to fit the changes in the plot arc._


	37. First Flight

_Thanks __for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted May 31, 2010._

_Caution: Coarse language, spoilers for "Order of the Phoenix", and "James Cameron's 'Avatar'"_

_/Italicized text/ - Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XXXVI-  
FIRST FLIGHT**

**Or, Jake gets the ride of his life trying to bond with an ikran**

**

* * *

**The following morning, Harry was awake long before everyone else. He woke Matt up, and the pair returned to the trunk. After consulting the Marauder's Map, he apparated directly to the second floor girls' bathroom. Luck was on his side, as Moaning Myrtle was elsewhere, and so he quickly activated the sink that exposed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

No matter how he looked at it, the shipping container would have to be shrunk down if he were to move it. That rather negated the whole idea of not changing its size or shape. The remains of the basilisk would also need to be banished, along with the dead animal carcasses. The shipping container first, though—it would be sent to Pandora, and a proper entrance installed. A gesture of the hand, and the container was reduced to that of an elongated shoe box. A second gesture, and it was made almost weightless. He turned on the spot, and apparated back to the trunk with it.

Alpha Centuri was just starting to cast its rays across the Pandoran landscape, as Harry reappeared not far from the remote research station. He set the container down, resized it, then applied a disillusionment charm on it. Anyone who didn't know it was there would miss it altogether.

He apparated back into the trunk, then passed into the container. Even though he didn't have the doors, he made a change to the entry hall, adding a smaller room leading off of it. It would have to be perfectly sealed, as not to allow Pandora's nasty air to invade the trunk. A few charms put on it would prevent that from happening.

Noting the time, Harry returned to his main trunk and joined the others for breakfast. Surprisingly, Dumbledore was waiting for him.

"Professor," Harry greeted.

"Your cousin has recovered well enough to be released from St. Mungo's," said Dumbledore, "I felt you should be warned before we actually move your relatives here. You do have a place set up for them?"

"Shit, knew I forgot something!" Harry muttered.

"If you would show me where you planned on making such an addition, perhaps I can help you. I assume you already had plans for the day in addition to your classes?"

"Yeah. I promised some of my new friends I would go fly with them. So my twin will be taking my classes today. Professor, how is Professor Snape?"

"He was released from the infirmary this morning, and should be able to resume teaching today."

"He's okay?"

"For the most part," said Dumbledore.

"Sometimes what seemed like a good idea at the time…"

"Harry, you can't expect to be perfect," said Bill, "It was a mistake, you move on and learn from it."

"Yes, it was a mistake, a costly one. What would've happened had Snape died because of me?"

"That's _Professor_ Snape, Harry."

"He didn't, that's what counts," Bill countered, "And don't you dare blame yourself for the others! Voldemort chose those targets no matter _what_ the outcome."

"I know. I know that." He drew a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm, and dug into his breakfast.

Once finished, Harry led the headmaster to the container.

"This is actually a shipping container," Harry explained, "Jiro suggested it, and it's proven to be a very good idea. Now my relatives won't like anything magic, so it's best to keep it as 'normal' as you can. They'll probably go half-spare being brought in here as it is." Dumbledore seemed to think on it for a moment, then said, "I believe I have just the idea to make their stay comfortable here. Be off with your friends and your classes, Harry."

"Thank you, sir." With that, Harry produced his clone. "Go to class with Matt, and let me know if anything comes up. I'm off with Jake and Tsu'tey."

"Great. Kìyevame."

"Kìyevame," Harry replied.

"You are learning the language of the indigenous?" questioned the headmaster.

"Yes," both Harry and the clone answered, then Harry smirked. The clone was acting more and more like an identical twin, it seemed, rather than just a magical manifestation. Both of them left the container, the clone heading back into the main trunk, and Harry stopping into the third.

He disapparated, and reappeared in the common area of Hometree. "Hi guys," he greeted.

"We were about to leave without you," said Jake.

"Ran into complications back in my trunk—my home," Harry explained, "My relatives are being released from hospital today."

"Then shouldn't you be there, rather than here?" questioned Neytiri.

"No, not really. If I were a lesser man, I would've told them to go play with a dragon—err… Toruk, in comparison," Harry clarified, seeing the confused look on Neytiri's face.

"You dislike your family," Tsu'tey guessed. Harry grimaced, saying, "I was treated no better than a servant until I turned eleven, and not much better for the four years after, even though I only needed to spend a bit of time with them during the summer."

"Why?" questioned Jake, as the group of them headed down the spiral ramp.

"Fear and jealousy, I think," answered Harry, "See, my mum's sister hasn't got a scrap of magic in her. She was terribly jealous of my mum—again, just a guess, but likely pretty close to the truth—anyway, she went and married—mated to—the most un-magical person she could find. They're always on about being seen as 'normal'." Harry let out a snort. "There was nothing normal about living with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. At least, behind closed curtains."

"Your culture is more alien than you are, HarryPotter," spoke Tsu'tey.

"There are good people in our world. Just as much as there are people like the Dursleys. I protect them because it's the right thing to do." Harry let out a smirk, then said, "You know, I should invite you all for a visit. Anyone want to take a bet on the first thing that will come out of their mouths?" The group had stepped outside, where four Direhorses waited.

"You have your broom with you?" questioned Jake. Harry reached into his pants pocket, producing said item.

"You will fly with me then," said Neytiri. She once again made a series of what might be considered bird calls, while the others mounted their rides.

"Good luck Jake," said Harry, then to the other two young hunters, "And to the pair of you as well."

"Irayo," spoke the pair of them.

"Irayo - Thank you," said Jake, as Harry mounted his re-enlarged broom. A shadow overhead heralded the arrival of Neytiri's banshee, and it swooped down, landing a few feet away, letting out a god-awful screech. She quickly attached her queue, then mounted it.

"Let's be off, then."

"See you soon, Jake," said Neytiri, as she and her ikran lifted into the sky. Harry also lifted off on his broom, easily matching their height.

* * *

Harry had caught glimpses of the floating land masses known as the Hallelujah Mountains, but he'd not actually been near them. Now, as the alien sun rose high in the sky, Neytiri was leading him straight for them. The magic was insanely strong there.

"Do the humans here fly their aircraft here?"

"Yes," answered Neytiri, "Although it is confusing how they can."

"Agreed. The magic here is incredibly strong, as if it's been focused."

"Look there," said Neytiri, pointing below. Harry was stunned at the visual. Massive arches were poking through the mist, seeming to be nearly a half-mile across. "Merlin's pants!" Neytiri grinned at the expression, although she didn't understand its meaning, but said, "Down there, is another sacred location for our people. In time, you will visit."

"See that?" Harry pointed to a large up-cropping of rock, that resembled the trunk of a tree. Several rock arches peeled away from it. "It's a focal point for the energy… loads of magnetic energy here too. But the Muggles can't see the magic. As another friend of mine said, 'they don't see nufink.'"

"We should hurry. They will be reaching the rookery soon."

They circled around one of the larger chunks of floating rock, to at last make for a gaping hole in its side. A narrow ledge connected it with what was apparently the rookery, where what seemed like hundreds of ikran were clinging and huddling to the outcroppings and overhangs. In the hole, Tsu'tey was already leading the group forward to its opening. Neytiri landed her ikran on the edge, and dismounted, while Harry remained on his broom.

"JakeSully will go first," Tsu'tey decided, giving Jake a nasty smile.

Neytiri led Jake out onto the narrow ledge, earning a scowl from Tsu'tey. The remaining young hunters held back for a moment, until Tsu'tey began to follow, and only then did they make for the narrow passage. Harry remained close, and drew his wand, just in case. Neytiri and Jake were speaking in low tones at this point, but at his distance, Harry could not hear the conversation. Clearly, they didn't want Tsu'tey to hear it either.

From there, Harry observed, Jake was on his own. He cautiously stepped out onto the large outcropping, where dozens of ikran watched him. Some of them hissed, while others edged away and took to the skies. Jake had what looked like a long leather strap in his hands—what would he need that for? Then, as he neared a particularly large animal, it spread its wings, and let out a horrible shriek. Jake locked eyes with it, and strode toward it. "Let's dance." The animal let out another angry hiss, and leapt toward Jake, jaws wide, prepared to devour what dared challenge it in such a way. Jake was quicker, however, dodging the lethal rows of teeth, and flinging the long strap, so it snapped around the animal's jaws, securing them tightly closed.

From there, it was a scuffle as Na'vi battled ikran, the animal thrashing about, trying to free itself. Jake proved to be an able opponent, leaping onto the beast's back, and wrapping his arms around the animal's wildly bucking head and neck. He attempted to reach back and grab one of the antennae, but the enraged ikran had one more trick up its sleeve, as it slammed its bony head to the side, catching Jake in the face. Harry raised his wand a little higher—he'd rather not lose a friend, nor would Neytiri for that matter—as Jake was thrown from the animal. He fell hard, and almost went over the side. Even Harry heard Neytiri's gasp, while Tsu'tey laughed and cat-called at the half-witted attempt. Harry sent a glare his way in return.

Jake, however, proved to be a little more adept, and leapt back onto the flailing beast, making a second attempt, this time using his feet to lock the animal's head and neck in a sort of submissive hold. His hands now free, he snatched one of the antennae, and jammed the end of his queue into it.

Instantly, the ikran stopped struggling, the bond having been made. Jake and the animal lay there for several moments, the battle having finished. Yet, Neytiri was already scrambling over to them.

"First flight seals the bond. You cannot wait."

"What do I do?" questioned Jake.

"Think, 'fly'."

"Fly?" With a clumsy beat of its wings, the beast was gone like a shot, and it clearly became a case of 'who's riding who?'. It was as if the animal was doing its best to murder its rider. Harry took off after, as the beast slammed itself into a rock face, clattered a dozen feet down the side, careened off into the air, then repeated the process, letting out horrible screeches all the while.

"Jake!" Harry gasped, again trying to get his wand trained on him. The animal was like a rampaging hippogriff! It slammed into another floating mass, letting out another angry shriek, Jake hanging on for dear life.

"Immobilus!" Harry shouted, but the jet of magic missed, slamming into the rock face. 'This animal's mental!' he thought, "Impedimentia!" Again, the spell missed, the bolt of magic shooting harmlessly into the atmosphere.

"SHUT UP AND FLY STRAIGHT!" Jake roared, and the animal stopped its dangerous manoeuvres.

"Level out," Jake commanded, and the beast did as ordered.

"All right there?" Harry questioned, coming alongside.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Bloody hell, I thought it was gonna kill 'ya."

"So did I."

The flap of wings announced the arrival of another ikran, as Neytiri pulled up alongside them, making a gesture with her hand. "Follow me!" Harry immediately followed suit, quickly catching up to her, but looking back, realized Jake had still not mastered control. "Neytiri, hold up." He eased off, allowing himself to fall back to Jake's position.

"It's good, I got this," Jake answered, pushing his ikran to catch up with Neytiri.

From there, it turned into a game of cat and mouse, as Neytiri led them through the massive floating rock formations that made up the Hallelujah Mountains. They were soon joined by Tsu'tey and the two young hunters, making for a rather interesting formation: five ikran and their riders, along with one wizard on his broom. It was Harry's first flight all over again, as he remembered the joys of taking to the air for the first time—or second, come to think of it. The Na'vi saw this side of the boy-become-man rather clearly. He was in his element.

"You fly well on that," said Tsu'tey, easing alongside Harry's broom. The group of them had been flying off and on for the past few hours, taking a few breaks high on the floating rock formations. The alien sun was starting to sink to the horizon.

"Up here, all my other obligations and expectations are left on the ground," answered Harry, with a shrug, "My dad was a good flier too, but… it's an easy escape, and something I haven't had much chance to do over since I came back… err… well, since the end of last school year."

"Does it come easy?" questioned Jake.

"Well… at least I don't have to fight with mine before I fly it the first time." That got a chuckle from Tsu'tey, and a grin from both Jake and Neytiri.

"Yours does not have a spirit of its own," Neytiri pointed out, "Something you connect to."

"But I do connect with it, sort of. It follows my commands… it's just the charms built into it that act on them," answered Harry, with a shrug. "Besides, can you do this?" Harry pulled up sharply on the broom, and came to an abrupt stop. The rest of them flew on by, and had to circle around.

"Show off," Jake muttered. He was still no expert at controlling his ride.

"You have fought from your broom," questioned Tsu'tey, as they were under way again.

"Yes. Another way of spoiling something I've loved so much. I've killed more than a few from the air. I'm not happy about it, but it was necessary. But you know… when you're a second away from death… or seeing a friend die… there isn't time for second guesses—for mistakes. You get one shot, and one shot only." A cloud seemed envelop the boy, as he continued, talking mostly to himself, "I've seen my best friends murdered in front of me… because Voldemort wanted information. Bill, Cedric, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore…" he closed his eyes, as though fighting back the tears. Even here, on a distant world, in a different dimension, the horrors of the past still haunted him.

"Harry… you're losing control of your broom," Harry heard Jake's warning, and snapped out of the cloud that had surrounded his consciousness. He quickly righted the broom, restoring level flight. Jake, meanwhile, was going through the information he'd just heard. Bill had died? How was that possible, considering the man had just visited yesterday, right? And Hermione? Wasn't that the brown-haired witch who helped him out the other night? Jake would have some questions for Harry later on.

"Gonna need something a little stronger to drink later, I think," Harry finally decided, "I may not be good company tonight."

The rest of the afternoon, Harry barely said a word, as the enormity of his situation once again hit full-force. There were just too many expectations, too many hands out, demanding his attention. All he'd wanted to do, was move on. Was that truly too much to ask?

That evening, while the others celebrated, Harry returned to the main trunk, and summoned Dobby, asking him to pick up a bottle of firewhiskey. The item procured, he plopped down on a couch in front of the fireplace in the common room, and poured himself a generous portion.

"Gonna get pissed without me?" Matt smirked, but the expression dimmed, seeing the frustration and anger blazing in Harry's eyes. He simply sat down beside his mate, and picked up a second glass. "Drinking alone, never a good idea."


	38. Shattered Trust

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted May 31, 2010._

_WARNI__NG: Major spoilers for "Avatar", violence, coarse language._

_/Italicized text/ - Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XXXVII-  
SHATTERED TRUST**

**Or, a painful history lesson is played out once more**

**

* * *

**Thank god for anti-hangover potions. The following morning, it was the first thing both Harry and Matt consumed, before daring to interact with anyone.

"Right. What happened that got your knickers in a twist?" They were in the bathroom, Matt applying a shaving charm, while Harry… took care of other business.

"Too much on my shoulders," answered Harry, bluntly, "Sometimes I just…"

"Get overwhelmed? Jesus, Harry… you know, a lesser man would've gone off the deep end by now."

"I know that… but I just don't know if I can do it… to not lose my head! I've got the regular load of classes which I'm expected to keep up with, I've got the Ministry of Magic breathing down my neck, trying with all their might and power to deny Voldemort's existence… I've got said Dark Lord wanting me very dead… never mind the fact there's some sort of cosmic entity who thinks it's a sick joke to fling me from one world or dimension into the next!" He looked about ready to scream, but Matt stopped what he was doing, and slung an arm around his shoulder, planting a kiss on his forehead. "That's why you've got me and Bill, and Ron, and Hermione… and hopefully Cedric. We're here not just to shag your brains out, but to help you right?"

"I…"

"You know I'm right… don't answer that. The point being, lean on us, don't just shut yourself away. It doesn't do anyone any good."

"I guess. Thanks…"

"It's one of the things I'm here for, right? And I know Bill would say the same." Matt smirked, saying, "You've got shaving cream in your hair."

"And whose fault is that?" Harry smirked right back, grabbed the can of shaving cream, and squirted a gob of it in Matt's face before he had a chance to react.

When Bill stepped into the bathroom, he burst out laughing at the scene that met him. Both Harry and Matt were lying on the floor, covered in shaving cream, among other things.

"He… he started it!" Matt managed to get out, between gales of laughter himself.

"I'm sure…" Bill finally managed, gesturing with his wand, banishing the mess. "Don't think the house elves would want to clean this up."

"No, probably not." Harry stood up, and offered Matt a hand. They quickly spelled themselves clean. "Did I get everything?"

"No, back of your hair… I got it," said Bill, applying a cleaning charm of his own. "You guys are terrible." Harry stuck his tongue out at Bill for his effort.

"Uh huh, really mature, Harry."

At breakfast, the twins sat across from him, and George warned, "Umbridge came into the dorm again last night looking for you."

"She knows you're not sleeping in your dorm, so be careful around her," his twin warned.

"Thanks guys. I guess maybe it's time to visit her in my 'older' form."

"Harry, you can't do that. She'll still know it's you."

"Not if I obliviate her. As in, 'Lockhart' obliviation." That got a snicker from Ron and Hermione, who, as usual, were sitting closer than should be allowed.

"As good an idea as it might sound, it'll just bring more trouble in the end," Bill pointed out, "She's likely in communication with the Ministry daily." Harry smirked, and closed his eyes for a moment. He'd promised Dumbledore not to mess with the wards, but… he'd remember to fix it later. "She might have a small problem with that today."

The past two weeks had been rather interesting to say the least, with the wards on more than several occasions passing a warning that a student or students were in harm's way. It was most prevalent in the evening, between five and nine in the evening. Umbridge's horrible detentions, of course. Most of the others, had only lasted a moment, in contrast.

Harry finished his breakfast, then said, "We will need to meet about the Defence Association. Sooner rather than later. Pass the word around, we'll meet in the Old Hog's Head, like I mentioned we did the first time around. I'll send my twin along."

"Leave that to me, Harry," Hermione offered.

"I've got a parchment you guys can use this time," said Bill, "I remember one of the group betrayed you right?" Harry nodded, and Bill continued, "This one will guarantee no one will be able to betray your secrets."

"Good. Although I've got an idea how to further prevent discovery. We'll be using port keys to get students down to the chamber and back. If Umbridge really wants to reach us, it's gonna take a little more than a simple blasting charm."

"Right, your parseltongue ability," Bill remembered.

"When do you want to meet?"

"For you to work out. I'll make sure to be there, whether it be me, or my twin," answered Harry.

"Harry… we noticed another room off the entry hall in the container," said Fred.

"What's it for?" his twin threw in.

"Glad you asked. You guys have any more doors done?"

"Three pair," said George.

"Good. I'll need a set, so we can properly connect with Pandora. The room's a sort of air lock. I've already set up a charm to replace the air, and to seal it."

"Next order of business, then?" said Fred.

"If you guys don't mind." Harry produced his clone. "Same as yesterday. Attend class, warn me if anything happens."

Harry watched, as George set one of the doors on the wall inside the newly created room that would serve as the air lock. It retained its default appearance, for now.

"The other one," said Fred, passing him the second door.

"You guys are great, as always. Now I hope you're not wasting the galleons I'm passing you on frivolous things."

"Harry! Why would you think something like that?" Fred cried, in mock shock.

"Oh the shame of it, he doubts us!" George joined in.

"Guys, seriously. Save it for your joke shop."

"Harry," said George, seriously, "We are. We've almost got enough to secure a shop in Diagon Alley."

"Would that be No. 93, by any chance?" Harry smirked at the twins' reactions. Sometimes, having prior knowledge was fun!

"So when might we be allowed to follow you into this new world you've found?" questioned George, as the pair regained composure.

"Don't you guys have classes?"

"Since when have classes ever mattered to us?"

"Quite right Fred, especially when there's a potential for new clients!"

"Guys! I'll not have you pranking my new friends! They're weary of human outsiders as it is."

Harry returned to Pandora a short time later. The door was installed on the outside of the container, and Harry apparated into the research station, at last able to remove the temporary door. Norm watched as he did so.

"You've got a connection in the second container you have here," he guessed.

"Yeah. It was installed a few minutes ago. Functions exactly as the air lock does here," Harry answered, "You guys are still welcome to come visit. It's just best if I don't intrude on your space here more than I had to."

"Yeah, Grace'll appreciate that. She didn't say anything to you?"

"Not a word."

"God, I'm shocked. I thought she'd rip you a new one."

"Well she did give me an ear full for bringing Jake into my trunk in avatar form by accident." He gestured with his hand, and the door seemed to pull away from the wall. He gripped it, then shrunk it down, and put it in the small pouch he carried with him. "My third trunk is already put back where it belongs. Once again thanks for the help and the understanding, you guys have been really cool about all this."

"If it was the other way around, right?"

"Right."

"Harry… man, you've blown me away, all I gotta say. Even Grace is confused right now."

"Why?"

"Magic. It goes against everything we know about science, physics, everything we've learned in a classroom," answered Norm.

"Mate, you and I both know, there are far too many things you can't learn in a classroom. So many things even we as wizards, we don't know."

"That's exactly the point! We're scientists… it's our JOB to UNDERSTAND the unknown."

"But there are things we as humans will NEVER know… it's just the way the universe works, as I'm slowly finding out. I mean, bloody hell, this is the fourth universe I've been jammed into since the beginning of July!"

"There's always a reason for that stuff, you'll find out eventually."

"I guess. But when it comes to magic… you have to be able to do magic to truly understand it. I can try and explain things, but… it's really difficult when you can't experience it for yourself."

"Doesn't mean I can't try. A good scientist has to have an open mind, in my opinion."

"Yes, true, I guess, or at least an objective mind. With the Wizard world, that's a rare thing. Too many closed-minded old farts with no inkling of what's truly going on." That got a laugh from Norm. Just then, the communications unit crackled to life, "Love shack, this is Samson One Six inbound to your position, ETA two minutes." Norm reached the console, keyed the mic, and answered, "Love shack, copy, see you shortly." He turned back to Harry. "She's probably safe to know about you." Harry could see the slight change of demeanour in the guy.

"Girlfriend?" Harry smirked.

"Um…"

"Come off it, I can spot that kind of thing a mile away," Harry grinned.

"Well, uh, yeah, for the past couple of months," Norm confessed. Just then, they could hear the beat of chopper blades, getting louder as it approached. Harry hesitated, but decided to stay and meet this new female—he knew that from the voice over the communications set, of course. The question was, would she arrive on her own, or with friends he might not wish to meet?

That decision effectively wasted him the rest of the day, and it was nearing supper time before he was able to get away back to Hometree. The Samson pilot, Trudy Chacon, had many questions for Harry. However, by the time Harry was finally able to disapparate for Hometree, he'd gained another ally. Or at least, another human there who would not betray his secret.

He found Jake and Neytiri, standing at the base of the strange totem pole, speaking in hushed tones. Jake was reaching up to touch the massive skull attached to it.

"What is that?" Harry asked.

"Toruk," answered Neytiri.

"We were chased by one today," Jake quickly answered, getting an arched eyebrow from Harry.

"My grandfather's grandfather was Toruk Macto—Rider of Last Shadow. Toruk chose him. It has only happened five times since the time of the First Songs."

"That's a long time," said Jake. Neytiri took his hand, continuing, "Toruk Macto was mighty—he brought the clans together in a time of great sorrow. All Na'vi people know this story."

Harry backed off, realizing this was a 'special' moment for the pair, deciding to go up to the common area. Most of the clan would likely be there already. He climbed the ramp, and was rather startled, realizing that the majority of the clan was indeed present, with a somewhat festive mood simmering in the air.

"Harry!" Bill greeted, as did Matt only a second later.

"Hi guys! What's going on? I got held up at the research station."

"Yeah, so Norm was telling us." Matt pointed to one of the Na'vi off to one side. He wore human clothes even though he was in his avatar, similar to Grace, who sat closer to the fire.

"The Hunt Festival. At least that's what Grace explained," said Matt, "The food is from Jake's kill this afternoon… although he almost ended up being dinner himself, from what he was saying."

"Toruk," answered Harry, "I asked about it before I came up—speak of the devil…" Jake and Neytiri had just appeared at the top of the ramp.

"Come, you must eat." Harry found himself pulled into the circle by Tsu'tey, who held an enormous sturmbeest rib in his other hand. Matt and Bill followed quickly, while Neytiri led Jake to the opposite side. Other clan members were quickly making room so the newcomers could sit. Neytiri, in the meantime, stood up, and joined a number of others, who were dancing and singing, continuing to energize the festive mood.

Tsu'tey picked up a bowl filled with an odd liquid, and offered it to Jake. Jake only locked eyes with the Na'vi warrior for a moment, then accepted it.

"Watch that stuff," said Grace, from the opposite side of the fire, "It'll knock you into next week."

"Oh really?" Harry smirked, as Jake took a long drink of the stuff. A pair of young hunters behind them were hooting and clapping vigorously.

Some time later, Harry watched with very blurred vision, as Jake tossed an empty bowl toward a stack of them near the fire. He knew his mates weren't in that great shape either, but Grace HAD warned them, after all. Tsu'tey turned to Jake, saying, "I thought, enough drink, you would not be so ugly."

"Sorry," Jake apologized, to which Harry sniggered.

"Your warriors," Tsu'tey continued, looking Jake in the eye, "Hide inside machines, fight from far away. I did not think a sky person could be brave." Before Jake could answer, Neytiri ran through the circle, and grabbed Jake's hand. "You must dance! It is the way!" Tsu'tey watched her lead him away, and scowled, reminded of why he hated Jake so much.

The dancing and merriment went well into the small hours of the morning, but by that time, Harry and his mates had succumbed to the overpowering intoxicant in the drink. They saw not the closeness between Jake and Neytiri. They missed Grace, the normally reserved and rigid scientist, as she broke free from her shell, allowing the carefree, repressed little girl inside her to the surface, if only for a few hours.

Instead, Harry found himself and his three mates, standing before a great, gnarled, ancient willow, its long tendrils glowing a beautiful shade of purple, the bioluminescence casting a warm glow on them, as well as those around him. Mo'at, Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu'tey stood in front of them, with scores of his friends, and most of his professors surrounding them. He dared look behind, and found hundreds of Na'vi sitting on the ground, their queues plugged into the very ground; the ground itself was seemingly pulsing with energy that travelled up the tree's very roots.

Mo'at began speaking, "Harry Potter, you stand before us, and before Eywa, to take these three men, to always be bound unconditionally, until you become one with Eywa. Do you stand here of your own accord?"

"I do…"

Harry woke with a start, but a broad smile formed on his lips. "Thank you, Eywa… or whoever you might be," he said, placing a hand on the floor. He could've sworn it got warm momentarily, while he heard a distant, but girly laugh. No, not an 'Umbridge' laugh, but rather, a lithe spirit, with only kind intentions. Perhaps, everything would be all right in the end.

"You have spoken with the All-Mother again?" Harry looked over, seeing Tsu'tey, sprawled out on the floor, although he looked at Harry with blinking eyes, and dilated pupils.

"No, more like what I saw… confirmation of sorts. My third mate… he's gonna be just fine." He winced, realizing he would be in need of at least a couple of anti-hangover potions if he was to make it through the day. He sent a message to his clone. 'On my way,' came the reply.

"Bloody hell, feel like I've been run over by a Muggle lorry, several times," said Harry, with a snort. That got a smirk from Tsu'tey.

"Harry?" Matt muttered, trying to sit up. He flopped back down, feeling the room suddenly turn sideways. "Very. Bad. Bed spins…" He moaned.

"Won't be merging with my clone today… he'll have to take a second day for me… gonna be painful when we merge," said Harry. There was a POP. "Speak of the devil."

"Brought extra just in case," said the clone. "What did you get yourselves into anyway?"

"His fault," said Harry, gesturing to Tsu'tey. The clone only smirked, leaving a bag of potions on the floor. "You'll need to take classes again today. No shape as it stands… warn Dumbledore, Bill might not be able to make it to Umbridge's classes." The clone made a slight salute, and popped away. Harry opened the bag, and quickly passed Matt a bottle. "Hope one's enough."

Bill, meanwhile, was just stirring. He blinked several times, and found a bottle being put into his hand.

"Anti-hangover potion, you'll need it."

"Thanks."

"Tsu'tey? Would you like one?" The Na'vi hunter only nodded, and held out a hand. Harry passed a vial to him, and he consumed it at once, only mildly grimacing at the awful taste. "Tastes like pa'li dropping," he muttered.

"I'll be sure to tell Snape that," Harry grinned, feeling better than he had a minute earlier. "I'll take that so it can be refilled."

"Of course, the question is, how do you know what pa'li droppings taste like?" Matt grinned, while Tsu'tey scowled.

When Harry made to stand, it was then he realized his instructions were most definitely required. The headache might have vanished, but the state of intoxication most certainly hadn't.

"Wow, eh… um… no, won't be doing much today," he admitted.

"Yeah, mate, I think we're still pissed," Matt agreed. Harry again sent a message to his clone. "We won't be going far today… bloody hell… I thought firewhiskey was strong!"

"A drink from your world," Tsu'tey guessed.

"Tame, compared to whatever we had last night." Harry rolled onto his back, to stare up at the canopy strung over the common area. At least he would have his mates there to share his pain. He focused carefully, and conjured up several blankets, and some pillows—if they could be called that. "Looks like we won't be going far today."

"Ditto," Matt muttered, "Band mates gonna be pissed, not been spendin' much time with them."

"The weekend… tomorrow, make it priority, okay?"

"But…"

"Matt, don't alienate your friends, because of me."

"But here's more fun…"

"I think Harry's plannin' to be here a while," Bill threw in.

"Yeah, if this morning's dream is any hint."

"Wha'd 'ya see?"

"Us… bonding… in front of this… willow… like the Tree of Voices… but just one tree… and the clan… they were all plugged into it."

"The Tree of Souls," Tsu'tey clarified.

"I guess… I don't know, never seen it yet… but all our friends were there. But the thing was… Cedric was there too!"

"Harry… wow… it means a lot to you," said Matt, putting a hand on Harry's chest.

"Everything. We'll be four, rather than three, but… I'll never choose just one of you, 'jus, hope you both understand that."

"Whatever it takes, long's we can be part of you, with you, mate," said Bill.

"Eh… ditto," Matt muttered.

The day passed in a haze of semi-consciousness for Harry, as the clan went about their daily routine. They seemed not to mind the three wizards in their midst, curled up together in the mass of pillows and blankets they had conjured. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that they were at last able to pull out of the nearly comatose posture, resulting from the powerful alien intoxicant. Harry smirked inwardly. Maybe he should slip some of that stuff in Umbridge's tea. Scratch that, maybe a LOT. He made a mental note to speak to Tsu'tey later.

It was then he noticed the mood was as excited as it had been the previous night. This was more then the Hunt Festival, then.

"Bill and Matt… I want you guys to go back to the trunk. Probably best if you made an appearance. I'll want to merge with my clone sooner rather than later, so send him along." The three of them hugged tightly, with both Matt and Bill planting a kiss on Harry's cheeks. Then Bill grabbed Matt's arm, and they disapparated with a slight POP, leaving Harry to banish the conjured pillows and blankets.

Harry found the clan leadership gathered around the totem at the bottom of the spiral ramp, whispering in their own language. Grace approached him at once, and pulled him aside.

"What's wrong?" questioned Harry, "Something happened to Jake?"

"No, more like what's ABOUT to happen to Jake!" Grace was clearly rattled.

"Did he do something wrong? Is the clan angry with him?"

"No, it's nothing like that, it's more like he's done everything right! He's doing _uniltaron_—the Dream Hunt. It's very dangerous, even for a real Na'vi, never mind an avatar."

"Why's it dangerous?"

"The venom of an arachnoid—the Pandoran equivalent to a scorpion—it'll take him to the brink of death. Never mind the psychoactive alkaloid in the worm… I told him, we've got no clue what it'll do to an avatar brain."

"Grace… he's stubborn, like me. I've only known him a week, and I can see that much. How long have you known him?"

"Three months."

"Grace… Eywa showed me something this morning, while I slept. Why do I know he'll pull through? Because he'll be at my bonding ceremony, sometime in the future." For the first time since they'd talked, Grace smiled. "Thank you, Harry."

"You have spoken with the All-Mother a third time?" Harry turned to see Mo'at walking toward them.

"No, ma'am, it was only a dream. A dream of my wedding—my bonding. She only helped me clarify a couple of nagging issues, I guess." Grace had taken to interpreting for him again.

"It is peculiar, HarryPotter, that she has taken such a strong interest in you."

"Hmmm… I agree on that one. But if that's what she wants… I can't really argue. I just have to make the right choices… after all, it's our choices—not our abilities—that make us who we are."

"You speak wisely," said Mo'at.

"Not my words. The words of my headmaster," answered Harry.

"Then I would say equally, your headmaster speaks wisely."

"Hmmph… if only I had that wisdom. Most of the time when I do something wrong, it's usually with catastrophic results." Suddenly, with a little POP, his clone appeared. "Hope I'm not intruding." He gave a slight bow to Mo'at.

"Just learning a few things," answered Harry, who then turned to Mo'at. "Will it be an intrusion if I stay for the ceremony?"

"No. You are welcome to be amongst us, Harrypotter. You may not participate in the ceremony but you may by all means observe." Harry again gave her a slight bow as had his clone. "Forgive me, but I have some memories to sort out. How long before the ceremony begins?"

"It will begin just after sunset."

"Then I should be back by then." Harry and his twin vanished with a slight POP.

When Harry returned alone just after sunset, the entire village seemed to be crammed into the ground floor of Hometree. Harry decided it better to take to the air on his broom, to witness things from above. He was just in time to see Jake and Neytiri arrive at the foot of the ramp, and stop before the crowd, before going down the ramp into the lowest level of the tree. Grace attempted to follow, but was stopped by one of the hunters. Jake had been painted with a white substance, lines and swirls covering most of his body—it was a rite—the path to becoming one of the Omaticaya people: something Jake badly wanted to do.

The villagers remained silent, while they were gone below, their faces seeming rather ominous, in the light of the fire. Harry knew Jake would be all right, but these people didn't. There were strong clues a number of the people gathered here respected the avatar, even though he was a 'sky person'. As Tsu'tey had spoken the previous night, he had proven a 'sky person' could be brave. Now if only he could get through this one last trial.

The thing was, what would it mean, if he should succeed? To be a member of this unique society, culture… but only because of some very high-tech Muggle equipment? What did he stand to gain from it?

The answer could be quite simple, or it could be very complicated. On the simple side, it was a matter of personal gain. Harry knew what Jake Sully really looked like. In his avatar form, he was every bit the warrior. His human body just didn't do the man justice. The guy was a broken shell of a warrior—say… what did he do for a living, before coming to Pandora, anyway?

That led to a more sinister implication: the more complicated answer. What if the guy was no just in it 'for his own gain'? What if he were sent here, ordered to gain their trust, done only to further some RDA agenda? That prospect unnerved him.

No. That wasn't Jake's style. This guy was here to forget who he was, and just perhaps, find a place to belong. How long before that all came crashing down around him? More so, where would that put Harry? Where did he fit in this puzzle? Perhaps a discussion over coffee was in order—coffee laced with Veritaserum.

Harry looked over at the ramp to see Jake emerging from the lower chamber, along with the rest of the elders. The clan moved closer, wanting to hear what had happened below. Jake paused a moment to look up at the Leonopteryx Skull Totem, happened to look Harry's way, and gave him a wave. Harry waved back, moving in a little closer, but not too close as to intrude on the event. He caught Grace's eye, and she too looked relieved, if anything. 'Could she actually be on the verge of tears,' Harry wondered.

Eytukan placed his hands on Jake's chest, and holding them there, spoke. Harry didn't know what he'd said, but it was clearly a good thing, as members of the clan pressed forward, crowding around and putting their hands on Jake's shoulders, back, chest—hands upon hands, until he was connected to everyone.

As the ceremony at last broke, Neytiri didn't wait, but dragged Jake off, out of the tree, into the night. Harry made to fly after, but Grace waved him over. "No. Let them be for now."

"I've got some serious questions for him."

"They can wait until morning. They'll likely go get cleaned up, spend a bit of time before coming back."

"Grace. You know they fancy each other?"

"Na'vi culture will forbid it." Harry let out a snort. "That's what you think. When I spoke to you and the kids the other day, did you think I was making that stuff up? If they're truly in love with each other—" he dropped his voice, realizing a few might be listening. "Look. I'm gonna look for them."

"Be careful, Harry."

Several hours later, Harry had gotten nowhere, and by the sounds in the trees below, it was just better to retreat to Hometree or the trunk. Being Na'vi, they were far more skilled at concealment than he was. Never mind the fact that he knew nothing about the wildlife that prowled the alien world after dark. He disillusioned himself, landed in a clearing, and disapparated.

* * *

Harry woke to shouts. Angry screams and shouts, more like it. Eytukan's voice, raised and angry, followed by Tsu'tey's. What had happened? Jake? Neytiri? Did something happen to them? Grace's voice, pleading with them?

"You do not speak here!" Tsu'tey snarled. Harry hurried down the ramp, to find the entry abuzz with angry Omaticaya.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he questioned, checking for his wand. It was there, where it was supposed to be.

"Sky people, they destroyed Tree of Voices!" Tsu'tey snarled, ears flat back, like an angry cat. Harry almost staggered. The intruders had destroyed one of the Na'vi's most sacred places, without care or thought.

"When do we leave?"

"Harry, no! do not encourage them!"

"Grace. I knew… I somehow knew that something like this would happen… just not so fast. Don't defend your stupid employers, they know NOTHING about what they've just done." His voice was low, but it spoke VOLUMES on what he felt. The invaders had crossed a line.

"You have your broom, Harrypotter?" questioned Eytukan.

"On me always, since I've been here. Tsu'tey, whatever you want me to do, I'm all ears." His eyes suddenly flicked to the ramp, as Jake and Neytiri hurried down to join the gathering. He leaned in to her, saying, "Okay, listen. There's something I have to tell you. It's gonna be hard. I just need you to—" but Tsu'tey stormed up to him, his face contorted in a rage, "YOU!" He slammed Jake in the chest, almost knocking him over. "You MATED WITH THIS WOMAN?"

"Oh shit!" Grace moaned, while Harry shot her a 'told you so' look. Not good. Neytiri, meanwhile, had only gone to Jake, and took his hand in hers. Mo'at looked devastated. "Is this true?"

/_We are mated before Eywa. It is done_,/ answered Neytiri. Tsu'tey snarled, /_These aliens kill everything they touch, like poison._/

"Tsu'tey—" Harry began, but the warrior had already drawn his blade, and lunged at Jake. Jake, however, was ready this time, and sidestepped the slash, and nailed him in the face, sending Tsu'tey sprawling. He looked up, blood squirting from his nose. He lunged from his position, just as Grace suddenly collapsed, like a marionette whose strings had been cut—as if she'd been struck with the killing curse. Neytiri had barely caught her.

"Oh no," said Jake, distracted by Grace's 'passing out'. Tsu'tey seized the opportunity, and nailed him with a blow to the head. He was sent reeling, but didn't have time to contemplate, as he suddenly fell to the ground, as lifeless as Grace.

Tsu'tey dropped to the ground, drawing his knife, and grabbing Jake by the hair, lifting his head up to expose his throat. "This is a demon in a false body. It should not live."

"Tsu'tey…" said Harry, just as Neytiri lunged and blind-sided the warrior at a full run, sending him flying. She crouched low over her mate's body, tail flicking dangerously, ears flattened back, snarling with primal fury.

Tsu'tey only stood there for a moment, panting, glaring at Neytiri. He finally got his senses back, then said, "Come, Harrypotter."

"You okay?"

"It is nothing."

"Stop. Let me fix it," said Harry.

"We do not have time for simple injuries," Tsu'tey retorted, calling out in Na'vi to his hunters. Harry only stopped for a moment, resizing his broom, and then mounted it. It was much easier to talk to people at eye-level after all.

* * *

Was it wrong to want revenge here? Was this the right thing? These were the two things that ran through Harry's mind, as he launched another blasting curse at a massive bulldozer that had not long before devastated such a sacred piece of ground. That was the simple answer. These people had no clue what they had destroyed, and for that, this was the payment. There would be no repairing any of the equipment that lay ruined here.

Harry was more than efficient in the use of his 'Reducto' curses, blasting massive chunks off the machines. Some sort of robot was the first target, although the Na'vi had taken care of the driver, and had managed to set the machine on fire. Harry only targeted their machines, since the Na'vi had no way of doing any serious damage on their own.

As they left, they failed to realize one of the soldiers had survived the attack, and was now relaying the message of the attack back to their headquarters and compound. "Attacked with banshees first, set the AMP suit on fire. Driver's toast." He saw his commander and the operation's administrator looking back at him on the small monitor screen.

"Rest of the squad?" came the commander's question.

"Six bodies - that's all of 'em. And the equipment is totalled."

"Christ," said the administrator.

"And sir… take a look at this." The soldier pushed through another series of shots, all of them showing Harry's spell work.

"Well, well… we got ourselves a second turncoat."

"No sir, I don't think so. I've never saw this guy in my life… looks more a boy than a man."

* * *

When Harry flew back into Hometree, he was just in time to see Jake and Neytiri walk back into the entry area. Mo'at and Eytukan were still gathered beneath the totem. Harry swooped down and landed right in front of him. "Jake… you and I are due for a VERY long talk."

"Harry… it's gonna have to wait," said Neytiri, as Jake began speaking in Na'vi. Grace translated so Harry understood. /_Eytukan, I have something to say, to everyone._/

/Speak, Jakesully,/ said Eytukan.

/_A great evil is upon us. The Sky People are coming to destroy Hometree. They will be here soon._/ A murmur, and several shouts of fear rippled through those gathered. /_You have to leave, or you will die._/

"Are you certain of this?" questioned Mo'at.

"They sent me here to learn your ways. So one day I could bring this message, and you would believe it."

"What are you saying, Jake? You knew this would happen?" questioned Neytiri, surprisingly calm.

Harry was fuming. There it was. The truth was dragged kicking and screaming out of its dark closet, into the light of day. He caught the look in Tsu'tey's eyes, and they said nothing but unadulterated hate. Jake seemed to hesitate, but finally managed, "Yes." He paused, as if trying to come up with the right words, but it all came out in a rush, as he knew he was sinking, likely into a pool of sharks at this point. "At first it was just orders. Then everything changed. I fell in love—with the forest, with the Omaticaya People—" he looked directly into her eyes, "—with you. And by then, how could I tell you?"

Neytiri was devastated—destroyed, that was all there was to it. She is shaking with the enormity of it, her voice cracking with rage and pain, "I TRUSTED YOU, JAKE!" Even Harry could feel the crushing, suffocating weight of the betrayal. He had broken her heart, then torn it out and fed it through a Muggle blender.

"Neytiri, please… I—"

"You will NEVER be one of the People. NEVER!" She screamed, for the night to hear, shoving him backwards.

"Bind them," spoke Eytukan. Tsu'tey was already moving, but Harry was faster. His wand snapped a nasty motion. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Jake fell over like a tree, as Harry dismounted from his broom. For a split second, a very DIFFERENT curse had been on the tip of his tongue… but he chose not to use it. These people did not need to see him kill.

"You fucking bastard," Harry spat, over him, "I hope you go to hell."


	39. A Failed Defence

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted June 11, 2010_

_WARNING: Major spoilers for "Avatar", coarse language, violence._

_/Italicized text/ Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XXXVIII-  
A FAILED DEFENCE**

**

* * *

**

While Jake's petrified form was trussed up on a wooden frame with Grace, Harry silently pondered what to do next. Answers. That was first. He waited for Tsu'tey and the hunters to secure the bindings, then and only then did he cancel the body bind.

"Your 'employer' is coming."

"YES!" Jake spat, "You've got to get out of here! They know about you, Harry!"

"Oh, just great." Harry pinched the edge of his nose through the bubble-head charm. "So not only do I have your lot to worry about—"

"We're not your enemy, Harry," Grace pleaded.

"You knew just as much as this fucker did!" Harry hissed right back. Tsu'tey only smirked at this, the wizard knew how to be hateful.

"But—"

"You sat there, when I asked what was going on, and lied to my face."

"Harry, for God's sake, listen to us!" Grace practically shouted, "Get everyone to safety! They're on the way, they'll be here any minute." She'd just got the words out of her mouth, when Harry could hear the distant drone of aircraft propellers, and a lot of them.

"Eytukan, Mo'at… he's right. There's a lot of them… I can hear it myself."

"No! We will stay and fight!" Tsu'tey snapped back.

"At least evacuate those who can't," Harry compromised. Eytukan gave a nod of agreement, and Mo'at began shouting instructions in Na'vi. Eytukan, meanwhile, turned back to Tsu'tey. "Take the ikran, attack from above."

"I will be out of sight," said Harry, "I'll try and do as much damage to their forces as I can."

"Harry, what about your friends?" Jake pleaded, "Let us help!"

"Yeah, right, so you can escape and join the other side? Wormtail tried that dragon shit two years ago… or was it ten?" Harry popped away.

He appeared up in the highest branches of Hometree, looking down on the canopy below. The attack force was then in full view. There, was the debate: to attack at long range? Or when they were up close? Up close won out, as he could leap from branch to branch, keeping his location unpredictable. He'd used that sort of tactic before.

The strike force was imposing, that was for certain. A large group of vertical-takeoff aircraft, with two helicopter-like propellers made up the bulk of the force, with a much larger flying fortress of sorts. Harry guessed it to be well over a hundred feet long, and nearly three quarters its length across. It was held aloft by four helicopter propellers, and had not one, but two cockpits. One either side, at the front, it carried many rows of weapons banks. An awful lot of firepower for a private company.

He leaned forward just a little, getting a glimpse of what was going on down on the ground. The Na'vi had heeded his advice, and were spiriting the children, and any who could not fight, off into the forest somewhere, hopefully a ways away from the tree itself. When it toppled—Merlin that was a lot of wood, to be sent crashing to the ground.

Without warning, the gathered force let fly canisters of sorts, which flew into the base of the tree. Gas was instantly clouding up around the base—likely tear gas. His bubble-head charm would protect him from it, but not the Omaticaya! Bloody hell. At once, he produced his clone. "Evacuate people… drag them away if you have to."

"Better we both do it," said the clone, as another round of tear gas was hammered into the base of the tree, "We can't save the tree, you know that."

"Go. I'll be along in a second." The clone nodded, and popped away, while Harry again trained his wand on one of the machines. "Reducto!"

Colonel Miles Quaritch had arrived with the massive squadron, not expecting much in the way of resistance. Yet, there it was, a bolt of red energy blasting from the upper crown of the massive tree, and BOOM! One of his Scorpion gun ships directly to the right of his vessel was laid to waste. Whatever the weapon hidden in the tree, it was deadly.

The natives on the ground were firing their useless arrows at the aircraft. Quaritch shook his head, pointing to the second cockpit. "Switch to incendiaries."

"Switching incendiaries," came the reply.

"Fire."

The next round of firepower coming from the aircraft exploded into flames on impact with the tree, sending a ripple of vibrations up the tree, and knocking Harry over. He almost fell, but realized there was no hope in fighting them off. The smoke was already in the air, as flames were racing up the inside of the tree like it was a chimney. He took off down the spokes of the shaft, collecting people as he went, until he had a group, then disapparated.

He was only able to do so a few times, before the smoke and heat became too much. Water conjured from his wand did nothing to the raging fire.

"Harry, we have to get away from here!" Harry thrust his wand at Grace. "How'd you get loose?"

"Mo'at released us, help us get people to safety!" answered Jake.

"Fine." Harry gestured at the both of them, encasing their faces in bubble-head charms. "Don't say I didn't do something for you," he muttered. The incendiary rounds had stopped flying, and all had become still, other than the occasional shouts.

"Come on everyone, this way! To me!" Harry called, with Grace repeating in Na'vi. He'd caught glimpses of his clone twice up to this point, but sent out the message to meet. There was a POP, and a questioning look at Jake and Grace.

"Don't know, Mo'at freed them… don't know why, but… we're gonna get people together and port key them out of here. Find Mo'at, ask her where we should be headed."

A series of loud explosions suddenly threw the group to the ground. The attack force had switched to missiles.

"Go!" Harry hissed at this clone, chancing a glance at the massive tree. The attack force was blasting it in one place, and if the group stayed where they were, the tree would come down on top of them. "Take these people over that way, the tree's gonna come down on top of us!" Harry pointed to the opposite side of the tree. The clone quickly made a port key, and with Grace explaining, the group of natives quickly gathered around, getting a finger on the item, a small branch shaken loose by the explosion. They vanished.

More explosions shook the ground, as the strike force continued firing dozens of rockets at the base of the tree. Harry was forced to duck, as a large chunk of wood came flying overhead—it narrowly missed Jake and Grace, but the impact with the ground knocked them all over.

"Much as you should just be left to die… I won't leave that on my conscience," said Harry, with a scowl. He put a hand on each of them, and they popped away, to land where his clone had been gathering people. Harry was about to send a message to his clone, when he felt a rush of memories flood his head, ending with a horrible pain in his chest, which made him wince. It was gone as quick as it came, but Harry gave a nasty smile. The strike force was short yet another chopper—or make that two. It looked like one had flown off without firing a shot. Trudy, of course. The woman had a conscience.

Then, the explosions stopped. The smoke rolling around the base of the tree hid the damage, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time. He could hear yells and shouts amidst the destruction, but knew going into the mess would most likely mean his life. It was best to stay put, and try keeping the others in place as well. He again produced his clone. "Help anyone left behind, and keep your head up." Both looked toward the tree, as a cracking sound could be heard. Then another, and another, sounding more and more like gunshots, as the base of the massive tree at last began to give way.

It fell with agonizing slowness, dozens of ikran taking flight, startled by the movement. More shouts and cries, from people trapped within the massive tree's trunk. It was the destruction of Hogwarts all over again, and today, like then, the death toll would be staggering.

For a fleeting second, it crossed his mind to pop away, forget he'd ever arrived in Pandora. This kind of attack, this kind of damage, the amount of destruction—it was all too familiar.

The tree crashed into the surrounding rainforest, its upper limbs and branches snapping off as though they were mere match sticks, a shower of debris and dust rising from the disturbed ground. A number of great roots stood exposed and ripped from the ground, where the tree had upended. Around him, Harry could hear the anguished cries of those who had called this place their home—a place that had been reduced to a pile of firewood in under a minute.

This was the answer which stopped him from leaving, to taking the easy way out. He'd made a connection with these people, and what was right trumped what was easy. The Na'vi needed his help… and there were people who would answer for the crimes committed here.

The strike force was already turning about, likely to return from where they came. That was something else he needed to know: where was this "Hell's Gate"? The people responsible would likely be there. Lost in the dozens of thoughts circling about his mind, he failed to notice Jake take off into the surrounding woods.

* * *

As Harry's clone pushed through the shattered wreckage that was Hometree, looking for survivors, he came upon Neytiri, just as she discovered her father, felled by a massive piece of debris. They were practically surrounded by burning material, the smoke almost painfully thick. He was at their side in a heartbeat. "What can I do?"

"It… it is too late… young wizard," Eytukan managed.

"I'm sorry…"

"Do not blame yourself… you could not know." Harry knew the man was fading fast. "Daughter… take my bow… protect the people."

"Father!" Neytiri cried, but Eytukan pushed the bow into her hands. She collapsed onto him, letting out a shriek of agony which seemed to drive knives through Harry's heart. He knew all too well what it felt like to be in that position.

"Neytiri!" Jake burst out of the smoke, and understanding at once what had happened, knelt next to her. "I'm sorry—"

"Get away from me, Jake. GO AWAY! NEVER COME BACK!" she shrieked. Harry, meanwhile, had again drawn his wand. "You'll do well to listen to her." His voice was even, but the malice was evident. Jake slinked off back into the smoke, as Harry knelt down beside Neytiri. "Come on, the fire's closing in on us."

"No!"

"Your people… your family… they need you now. Keep a grip on his body, we won't leave it here." Through her tears, she followed Harry's instructions, and gingerly put a hand on his arm as he stood up. He gave a slight twist, and they vanished with a noisy POP.

They arrived at the meeting place from earlier, on the opposite side of where the tree fell. There were far more people there than when he'd last checked, along with a large group of ikran, resting at the shore to the lake. Harry and the clone immediately met up, as Mo'at reached her daughter and her now deceased mate. She let out an anguished wail as the realization set in.

Grace was still amongst a large group of children, when she suddenly fell, unconscious.

"Good. The lot of them can go to hell," Harry muttered, then to his clone, "Get Bill, Remus, and Sirius. No one under age." The clone gave a nod, then disapparated.

"HarryPotter." Harry turned to find Tsu'tey and several hunters walking up to him. Seeing the body of Eytukan, with both Mo'at and Neytiri in a state, his face contorted into anger. Neytiri only looked up, and silently passed him her father's bow. "Olo'eyctan," she spoke.

"I've sent for help," said Harry, "I'll help you to fight back. If this were in my world… bloody hell, the Ministry of Magic would be in a right state!" he thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you have somewhere to go now? I'll offer my trunk if—" but Tsu'tey held up a hand. "Eywa will provide for us. We leave for the Tree of Souls."

"We have flown over it," said Neytiri, still full of distress, her face reading of shell-shock.

"I'll come with you… I'll follow in the air."

"As I will also do," Tsu'tey agreed.

"Neytiri, you will join them," Mo'at directed, seeming to collect herself. This was not the time to grieve. Harry understood that mantra all too well. He sent a message to his clone, as he produced his broom, and resized it.

Just then, the clone, Matt, Bill, Remus, Jiro, and Sirius appeared with a noisy CRACK, momentarily startling the large gathering. Matt and Bill openly stared at the twisted debris that had once been Hometree.

"September eleventh all over again," Matt muttered, darkly.

"Sorry?" questioned Bill.

"Just… nothing, never mind… but Jesus Christ! What happened? Your clone wouldn't say much more—threatened to curse him if he didn't bring me along!" Matt answered in a rush.

"Yeah, and for good reason," answered Harry, "We're gonna do something about this. The humans here crossed a line."

"The Muggles here crossed a line, Harry. These people—" Bill gestured to the now homeless Omaticaya clan, "—are magical, you've said so yourself. You know why the Statute of Secrecy was created, right?"

"Yeah."

"If this were back in our world—"

"Bill. I know."

"And you're planning on standing in as the ministry here," Matt guessed.

"Exactly."

"Help me… us… understand what you are saying," Tsu'tey cut in.

"I would… enforce the rules here—"

"I will help explain," offered one of the older children. She had been with Grace earlier, Harry remembered.

"Thank you. As I was saying," he continued, while the girl began translating, "I will act as an agent of our Ministry of Magic, enforcing the laws and statutes here, on Pandora. I need to look a little closer at the laws and so on, but I'm pretty sure there are things we can do to force the Muggles to leave. Equally important, if I've got my facts right, we can also haul those responsible for this… this atrocity… in front of a Wizarding court. A Muggle murdering a magical person or being… it's a serious crime where I come from." Jiro let out a snort, and said, "Yeah, in Canada, that would get you a one way ticket to Azkaban."

"Wizarding prison," Harry explained, seeing the girl's confused look, then continued, "Either way, we will help you… legally or not."

"This talk… it is confusing… such complicated channels, no direct and simple answers," said Neytiri, at last daring to join the conversation.

"Try to understand, those legal avenues are sometimes far more effective than coming at them with force. I think that's still necessary, and will happen. But that will only give you a temporary fix."

"What did this?" questioned Bill.

"Let me show you," said Harry. Bill nodded once, and Harry quickly passed the memory.

"Merlin's balls!" he swore, after processing what he'd seen. "How many were killed?"

"We don't know yet," answered the clone, "We tried to get as many out of the tree as we could before it was knocked over, but… they set fire to it before."

"Harry… you know, even Umbridge would be in a right state, should she ever find out about this." That got a brief smirk from Harry. "Voldemort."

"He'd likely burn the Muggle encampment and torture every inhabitant to insanity, before finally murdering them," said Remus, shaking his head.

"Where did your friend Jake disappear to?" questioned Sirius.

"He's a traitor," Harry answered, a scowl forming on his face, "He did to these people exactly what Wormtail did to my parents. He made them trust him, believe he was their friend… and then he delivered them in a nice package, to his employers… who did THIS!" he gestured angrily toward the toppled tree. "Tsu'tey described him quite well, I think, a demon in a false body. Couldn't agree more—only hope the fire destroys his body." That got a look of hurt from Neytiri, although it rapidly dissolved to anger. "Look… it's best if we get moving."

* * *

By the following morning, the clan had moved to what Harry now knew as the Tree of Souls, deep in the forest, among a number of the massive rock arches. The tree itself was inside the caldera of a long-extinct volcano, its roots spreading out in all directions. Sirius and Remus had returned to the trunk with Harry's clone to do some research, leaving Harry himself, Matt, Bill, and Jiro to stay at the site. They elected to erect a modest camp site near the rim of the caldera, as not to intrude on the people. He didn't know the language, but the song that reached his ears still spoke of pain, suffering, and loss.

"Harry… do you know where the Muggles are set up?" questioned Jiro.

"No. It's something I meant to ask either Jake or Grace… but there wasn't a chance."

"We need to find that out. Cut off the head, kill the snake, right?" Jiro pointed out, "And there are others back in your trunk that want to help… I'm sure Billy could lend a hand, if you cast a bubble-head charm."

"Yeah, and he end up dead."

"Harry… let people help," Bill threw in, "We're not made of glass."

"I just—"

"Yeah, we've heard it before," said Matt, "You don't like to be coddled, to be treated different… and neither do we!"

"I just don't want to lose any of you!" Harry shot back, staring down at the crowd of people gathered around the ancient tree, "Watching these people lose their home yesterday… it felt like a part of me died inside! I've already felt that kind of personal loss before… and I'd rather it be a long time before I feel it again, don't you guys understand that?"

"But you also can't do it all yourself, mate," answered Matt.

* * *

Back in the trunk, Harry's clone, Sirius, and Remus went straight to the study. While Harry began to explain what was going on to the others present, Remus and Sirius went into the stacks. All of the books from the Black library had been added to Harry's collection, and that did include a good number of volumes covering Wizarding law. It wasn't long before Hermione also got involved in the research—after all, there was no hiding that kind of thing from the bushy-haired witch. Not to mention, she was a true mistress when it came to research.

"Harry. Was this what you meant?" questioned Remus, dropping a heavy tome on the second conference table, where Harry was set up. It was just after lunch.

"Wizengamot Statutes and Powers, 1697," Hermione read.

"Look on page seven-eighty-five," said Remus. Hermione flipped to the suggested page, and began reading, "Proxy powers of the Ministry, and delegate powers of the Wizengamot. Right to assign a proxy representative."

"Wait… I've got something better," said Sirius, dropping a volume of equal size on the table. 'International Confederation of Wizards, International Wizarding Charter', read the title.

"Sirius, that's brilliant!" Harry grinned, "We won't need to deal with the Ministry at all."

"Exactly, kiddo." Hermione had seized that book as well, and was skimming the details.

"What do we have to do?"

"Hmm… no, maybe not," said Hermione, "It's not as easy as a proxy representative. This is seeking independent powers… essentially forming a separate Ministry of Magic."

"Don't put it away. I'll want to read that one," said Harry.

"What for, you can't be thinking of using it."

"Remember what I said, about abandoning Britain all together?"

"Harry, you can't still be thinking of that," said Hermione.

"Oh, very much so. It's not definite, but I'm considering it. Let me see the first book."

"Well… it might be simpler than we thought," he said, after reading through the passage several times. "It depends on whether Dumbledore will go along with it."

"He doesn't have a lot of pull with the Wizengamot these days, Harry," Remus reminded.

"The Muggles on Pandora don't know that. The document only requires a signature."

"Yes, a signature that will need a magical seal behind it."

"Guys, look. I fully intend to deal with the people responsible—legally. That way should they get the idea to return… the point being, they won't. the Na'vi are a magical race, never mind the entire planet—or moon."

"Harry, it almost sounds like you're ready to move there permanently," said Lily, from her portrait above the fireplace.

"Mum… I would, in a heartbeat. My obligations here or not… and now with this… this new development. I've only known these people a week, and they know nothing of the kind of world we live in. Everything there is simple."

"Your place is here, Harry."

"For now. But guys, really. Just keep that in mind. My patience is wearing out, fighting for a bunch of people who just don't deserve it. The Na'vi… they welcome my help, but they would never just let me… go at it myself. There… I have something to fight for… something WORTH fighting for!"

"But Harry, our world, our culture is worth fighting for too!" Hermione challenged.

"Yes, but where is the help? Where is Wizarding Britain? Calling me mental? Calling me an attention-seeking nut case? Is that how they pay me? I've said it already. The Na'vi have treated me with only respect, and that's more than earned my help. If I should die there… then so be it. My death won't be a waste."

"You think your help will make a difference?"

"I do, Padfoot! Yesterday might have been a failed defence on my part… but I didn't understand what we—they were fighting against. Now I know exactly what to expect, and how to deal with them." His eyes flicked left for a moment. "Something's happened, we need to get back."


	40. Last Shadow

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted June 18, 2010_

_WARNING: Major spoilers for "Avatar", coarse language, violence._

/Italicized text/ Na'vi native language.

* * *

**-CHAPTER XXXIX-  
LAST SHADOW**

**Or, Harry sees a Na'vi legend come to life**

**

* * *

**Harry had spent most of the afternoon between the makeshift camp and the raised dais at the Tree of Souls, making plans for a second defence. Tsu'tey agreed with Harry in that the invaders would be back with their machines, to quite possibly finish what they started.

The death toll from the attack had been devastating, to put it mildly, with nearly fifty Na'vi casualties. Scores had been injured, and that had kept the wizards quite busy, casting healing charms. A number of them were beyond saving, and the best they could do is make them comfortable, and ease the pain.

Late in the afternoon, an ominous shadow passed over the site. Instantly recognizing it for what it was, Harry sent a message to his clone.

"What is it?" questioned Bill.

"A Great Leonopteryx," answered Harry, wand at the ready, "Wands out guys. It's like a dragon."

"Wonderful," Bill snorted, drawing his own wand. Suddenly, the clone appeared, along with the others. "What's wrong?"

"That." Harry gestured to the creature in the sky. The clone instantly drew his wand, as did the others.

"Strong stunners!" Harry shouted, "Half of you with me to the dais!"

"No, wait! Look!" Matt pointed to the shape, which was getting closer.

"Blimey! Someone's riding it!" said Bill, in amazement.

"Toruk Macto," said Harry, as realization hit him, "Neytiri explained it to Jake a couple nights ago. Let's get down to the dais, let the others know."

By the time they had all apparated to the dais, the clan was in various states of shock and alarm, as the great beast descended into their midst. Harry attempted to maintain calm, understanding the importance of the event. From what he remembered, this had only happened five times in the past.

The beast at last touched down, and lowered its body, allowing its rider to dismount. He disconnected his queue from the antenna, and then strode through the mass of stunned Omaticaya, toward the dais, as everyone at last realized who it was.

"Toruk Macto," Neytiri breathed.

"The man has a lot of balls, you have to give him that much, Harry," said Matt. Harry begrudgingly nodded in agreement. Then, Neytiri spoke again, although more a shout, arms raised, "TORUK MACTO!"

"Toruk Macto! Toruk Macto!" The gathered Omaticaya shouted in response, growing more excited as realization rippled through the masses. It was as if hope had hatched from the ashes of despair. Even Harry could see the effect his arrival had. No matter what he had done yesterday, and months ago, it no longer mattered to these people. He was an ancient, revered symbol.

"Now what do we do?" Bill muttered.

"We follow his lead," answered Harry.

"He's got your spirit, mate," said Matt, "No matter what he did, you have to agree."

"Yeah, I guess. But it still doesn't make it right. When this is all over, I'll still be having a long conversation with _Toruk Macto_… about what he's done BEFORE he took that title."

Jake, meanwhile, was wading through the masses, who seemed to nod or acknowledge the powerful position he now wielded, straight to the rock dais, where Harry and his group, along with Mo'at, Tsu'tey and Neytiri waited, the latter at the foot of the dais.

"I see you," Neytiri breathed, their eyes locked on each other. At first, hands touched, then hands touched arms, then shoulders.

"I see you," answered Jake, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I was afraid Jake—for my people. I'm not any more," said Neytiri, as her eyes welled up with tears. Jake gave a weak smile, then took her hand, and together, they stood at the dais.

/_Tsu'tey of the Rongloa, son of Ateyo. I stand before you, ready to serve the People._/ He paused, then said, "You are Olo'eyctan, and you are the best warrior. I can't do this without you." Tsu'tey stood silently for several moments, as though fighting an internal battle with himself, and his emotions.

"Tsu'tey. We need him," Harry urged, "Whatever he did—"

"Toruk Macto. I will fly with you," said Tsu'tey, placing a hand on Jake's chest. Jake let out another weak smile, then turned to Harry. "Harry. I don't know what it will take to make it right between us… but I need your help against the sky people."

"We will have a nice chat later, Jake," said Harry, then, drawing his wand, and holding it out in front of him, "Toruk Macto. I pledge my wand, my magic, and my life, should it be required." He placed his hand beside Tsu'tey's, on Jake's chest.

"So mote it be. Irayo," answered Jake, to both promises. He then turned to Mo'at. "Grace is dying. I beg the help of the Great Mother."

"Bring her, Jakesully."

"Harry… I beg your help."

"No."

"Harry…" said Matt, but Harry gave him a nasty glare. "If the Great Mother helps her, so mote it be. If not, she made her bed." That got a hateful glare from Jake, who stormed off.

"He is Toruk Macto, Harrypotter. What he wishes, we do our best to answer," said Mo'at.

"Look. I just can't let it go."

"Why not, Harry? Whatever he did, he's doing his best to make amends," Bill reminded him, "We've all done things… terrible things in our life that we regret. All we can do is learn from them. And something tells me that taming THAT… whatever it is… isn't a cake walk."

"Jake has a strong heart," Neytiri threw in.

"The guy's got balls, I'll say that much," said Matt.

"I've made my choice. He does this on his own. Grace knew just as much as he did… about what the sky people were planning to do. THREE MONTHS! He knew THREE MONTHS ago, he could have warned you all. Yet he didn't."

"He has more than atoned for it, Harrypotter," said Neytiri, "Your Mate has stated the reason clearly."

"By pulling off an absolutely mental stunt… right."

"No worse than you fighting a dragon last year, mate," said Bill.

"Thanks for reminding me." Harry retorted. He watched as the crimson and yellow animal took to the air. "Look. Betrayal hurts me beyond anything else, okay? It may be a long time before I'll be able to fully trust him again, if ever. It's our choices and our actions who define who we are. Talk means nothing."

"You will lead one day, Harrypotter," said Tsu'tey.

"I already am, my friend. I already am."

"Think then, about what he is trying to do," Neytiri pointed out.

"You forgive him?"

"Yes! He is brave, a sky person yes, but fearless. To tame Toruk, it takes character, and heart. Jake has both."

"No matter what, the Omaticaya and all Na'vi people have my support," said Harry, "I stand by my promises."

Sometime later, Harry watched, as Jake brought Grace's human form through the gathered Omaticaya, with Norm following in avatar form. He held Grace's avatar in his arms as both approached the dais.

"Look where we are, Grace," said Jake. Grace's eyes fluttered open behind the mask, and she forced a smile. "I… need to take some samples."

"Lay them here," Mo'at directed, indicating two places at the foot of the gnarled willow. Dusk was rapidly claiming the landscape, the tree already beginning to glow with its bioluminescent colours. Jake and Norm did as instructed, then stepped back, as Mo'at put a hand on Jake's shoulder. "The Great Mother may choose to save all that she is—" she indicated Grace's avatar body, "—in this body."

Both Harry and Jake's eyes went wide, realizing the magnitude of what the Omaticaya matriarch was implying.

"Is that possible?" questioned Jake, again giving a pleading look to Harry, and getting no answer.

"Possible, yes. She must pass through the Eye of Eywa—and return. But Jakesully—she is very weak," Mo'at warned. Jake only knelt beside Grace's human form, taking her much smaller hand in his. "Hang on, Grace, they're gonna fix you up."

"I… I always held back," said Grace, gripping Jake's much larger hand, "But you… you gave them your heart. I'm proud of you, Jake." She fought to stay conscious, her eyes blazing fiercely, although her voice was faint. "Help them, Jake. Do whatever you can. You hear me?"

"I will."

Harry and his friends could only watch, as the entire clan seemed to plug their queues into the very ground, into the very roots of the great gnarled willow. It began to pulse with light, as the energy was sent forward, a united conscience, with a united goal. Even Harry could feel the elevated magical activity in an already magically saturated environment. Something truly magical was happening that went above and beyond anything the boy-become-man understood… beyond the very definition of magic. Hair-like threads were beginning to rise up from the very ground, to touch Grace's human form, to wrap her in a soft cocoon, while the same was happening to her avatar, the strongest being around her queue. Harry hesitated, but grasped one of the long tendrils dangling from the willow, and wrapped it around his wand. "I don't know if it's permitted, but allow my magic to help," he whispered. He felt a brief surge of magic coarse down his arm, and like what was happening with the rest of the Omaticaya, tiny threads seemed to flow from the end of his wand, into the tendril.

Suddenly, Grace's eyes snapped open, with an amazed expression crossing her face. She gripped Jake's hand once more, as the life was rapidly fading from her. Harry didn't hear what she said, but the look on Jake's face said it all. Her body fell still one last time, the glow diminishing along with the thousands of threads which had connected themselves to her.

"Grace!" Jake almost shrieked, the single word cried out in anguish to the day-become-night. He glanced hopefully toward her avatar, but it remained silent, in eternal sleep.

The clan fell silent, as Mo'at crossed to where Jake knelt, and touched his shoulder, saying, "Her wounds were too great, there was not enough time. She is with Eywa now." Neytiri removed the mask from Grace's face, and gently closed her eyes, as Jake only looked on, a bewildered look on his face. 'Now he knows what it feels like,' thought Harry, re-holstering his wand. Jake hesitated for a moment, as Neytiri slipped a hand in his, but they both rose, and turned to face Tsu'tey. "With your permission, I will Speak now. You would honour me by translating."

Tsu'tey gave only a gesture with his hand, which Harry understood to mean, 'proceed', and they both faced the crowd. "The Sky People have sent a message that they can take whatever they want, and no one can stop them. But we will send them a message.

"Ride out, as fast as the wind can carry you, tell the other clans to come. Tell them TORUK MACTO calls to them. Fly now with me brothers and sisters! Fly! And we will show the Sky People that this is our land!" Tsu'tey finished, letting out a terrifying war cry that was equally echoed by the crowd, who had leapt to their feet, stirred by the powerful words. Jake moved to leave, but Harry gripped his forearm. "Wait."

"Look, Harry…"

"Jake… where is Hell's Gate?"

"You plan on hitting them there? No, it's too dangerous!"

"That's Colonel Quaritch's back yard," Norm warned, joining the conversation.

"Striking there is only one possibility," said Bill, "We really need to know where they're coming from."

"Can you look into my head?" Jake offered, kneeling so he was at eye-level with Harry.

"Yes. Same rules… think of the location, what it looks like… focus only on that. Let me know when you're ready," said Harry, producing his wand, and pointing it at Jake's face. He forced his anger with the man to the back of his mind for now… otherwise, it would interfere with what he was about to do.

"Ready."

"Legilimens," Harry spoke.

The images he got showed an enormous compound that seemed to stretch for several miles. A massive mineral processing facility sat on one flank, with an equally enormous air field taking up the centre. He also got several images of people, and names: an older looking soldier—Colonel Quaritch. A man he guessed to be in his late thirties, dark hair, smartly dressed—Selfridge, the 'administrator'. Lastly, several scientist-type individuals, the most important being someone named Max.

"Who were the scientists?"

"Just don't hurt any of those people, okay? They're all good people."

"Harry… we aren't here to create enemies, we're only here to understand," said Norm, "It's just, we have to answer to their bottom line."

"And their bottom line allows for genocide, I guess," Harry snorted. He pointed to Jake. "Best get going." Neytiri only grabbed his hand, and they were off.

That was a signal, as the rest of the Omaticaya took to their banshees, mounting them quickly. In seconds, the sky was filled with their departure, the enormous Leonopteryx leading the way.

Harry, meanwhile, sat down on the dais, pointing to his clone. "Merge." The clone gave a salute, and vanished, causing Harry to wince, feeling the flood of memories invade him.

"You are okay?" Mo'at had not seen them merge before.

"No, s'okay," answered Harry, "It's normal. Just give me a minute."

"You should rest, they will not return until dawn," suggested Tsu'tey.

"Some rest would be a good idea, Harry."

"Agreed. A situation like this, we can't count on regular sleep. And Matt…"

"So help me if you tell me to go back to the fucking trunk I'll hex you here and now."

"I'll be returning to your trunk for the night. I'll make a trip to Diagon Alley in the morning to procure a stock of pepper-up potions," said Remus.

"I'll go with," Bill decided.

"And so will I," said Jiro, "Zack's probably going nuts wondering where I am."

"Good plan. Bring anything else you can think of that might help."

"Of course!" Bill smiled, then seized his boyfriend in a tight hug, and locked lips.

"Just in case," he smirked, as they came up for air.

"Right."

"What should I tell the others?"

"Nothing," answered Harry, "Other than, I'm fine, and I'll try to get back sometime later tomorrow."

"Ron and Hermione won't like that," said Matt.

"They're under aged witches and wizards. We're not," Harry reminded, "And if I had my way, you'd be going back to the trunk with Bill and Remus. What we're about to do is beyond dangerous!"

"Harry… when I met you… when I fell in love with you, I knew what that meant. We've had this discussion too many fucking times now! What's it gonna take to get it through your head! I'd rather be right beside you, facing that danger, than you do it alone, and I find out later!"

"Right… we're off," said Bill. He grabbed Remus and Jiro by their shoulders, and they popped away. Harry turned back to face Matt. "Merlin you're stubborn at times."

"No worse than you are. Come on, let's get back up to the camp."

"You are welcome to remain with us," said Mo'at, indicating a spot off to the side of the dais.

"We don't wish to intrude," Harry answered.

"You would honour us by remaining," Tsu'tey persisted.

* * *

Harry woke what seemed like only a couple of hours later, to find the sky seemingly alive with birds—banshees, he realized.

"Harry." He looked up to see Jake and Neytiri, kneeling beside them.

"Sorry?" Matt mumbled, trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

"Harry… we need to have a chat."

"Let me wake up… but yeah, agreed. How was your flight?"

"Look at the sky," said Neytiri, gesturing skyward. Hundreds of Na'vi were landing at the edge of the caldera, quickly dismounting, and joining their neighbours in the circle.

"And there." Jake pointed to another spot on the rim of the caldera. Harry could see dozens of Direhorses gathered, with more arriving.

"Toruk Macto called, the clans answered, it is the way of it. Toruk Macto brings the clans together in times of great sorrow," said Neytiri.

"But… bows and spears, against machine guns and bombs? How's that ever gonna work?" questioned Matt.

"Rocks. How much can a banshee lift, with a rider? Better question… could one lift something heavy enough to damage their aircraft?" Harry thought aloud.

"Just have to drop something in the propeller," said Jake, "it would be incredibly simple."

"And Toruk—bloody hell, he could probably lift a small car by the looks of him," said Harry, shaking his head.

"Here would be the ultimate insult… to use the Unobtanium against them. Drop the shit on their aircraft," said Matt.

"No, too risky. Although if we could, it would probably do wonderful things to communications and navigation equipment in nearby aircraft," said Jake. He thought for a moment, then said, "Listen. I need to get some rack. Come with us back to the camp."

"Matt comes along," Harry decided.

Not long after, Harry and Matt were gathered in the single module which housed the three link units. Jake was still resting inside the unit he was using, the clam shell swung open, while Norm and Trudy sat or stood close by.

"Harry… you can't know how much I regret what happened—NO, please let me get this out," Jake pleaded, seeing Harry about to cut across him, "Look. I made a horrible mistake. I came here… with the promise of a new start… a new chance. I wasn't even supposed to BE here… if not for my brother. He was the scientist. I was just the grunt." He paused, daring to chug down an offered glass of water, then continued, "At first, it was just another job, another hell-hole… with God only knows what.

"Then Colonel Quaritch comes to me, asking me to get information on the Na'vi. He promised to see about me getting my legs back if I did that for him. So I did. Everything I did, at least at the start… was for that purpose.

"The thing is, as I got to know these people… things changed. Now… THIS is the dream, out there is the real world. Harry… I will do whatever it takes to protect them… and make up for the damage I've done. If I could go back and undo it… I wouldn't hesitate."

"What happened to your brother?"

"He was murdered… mugged, for the few dollars he had in his wallet."

"You were identical twins?"

"He and I studied over three years together," Norm threw in.

"Jesus… sounds like they were lucky then."

"Had you said that three months ago, I would have said you're crazy. Now? I don't know what Tommy would've done."

"No, it's not worth going over that dragon shit. We'll never know what could've happened," said Harry, "We just have the here and now… and hopefully learn from it. Jake… I'll be brutally honest. I almost killed you yesterday," said Harry.

"But why? What happened here… why did it piss you off THAT much?" questioned Norm.

"Because I happen to care for these people," answered Harry, determined to remain calm, "They have everything I've missed for most of my life. Then to find out that… because of the actions of a few people, they've lost their home? I HATE betrayal. And Jake, that's exactly what you did. You betrayed the people who welcomed you as family. You just don't do that to family. You don't do that to your friends even."

"Harry… I know that… and it'll never happen again."

"Good. Because, I swear on everything holy, and everything not, for that matter. If you ever do that again, you'll think of death as a sweet release by the time I'm finished with you."

"Your oath…" Norm began, but Harry cut across, saying, "My oath goes for the Na'vi. Jake isn't Na'vi."

"I promise," said Jake, "Look. I know exactly where I stand right now."

"Your words will speak for you."

"They will."

"Good we're on the same page, then. Get some rest, I'll see you in a few hours," said Harry, offering a hand. Jake shook it.

It was nearing eleven in the morning before Jake appeared again at the Tree of Souls, Neytiri along with him. They found Harry and his friends gathered with Mo'at and Tsu'tey, as well as leaders of several other clans.

"Toruk Macto," the other clan leaders acknowledged.

"We have until tomorrow just after six in the morning," he announced, "Quaritch has taken over the compound. It's a full mobilization, at least as Max warned just a little while ago. Harry, head back to the camp. Trudy's got some gear we can use."

"Matt…"

Moments later, they were once again in the small module.

"Jesus Christ it scares me, you droppin' in like that," Trudy cursed.

"Sorry… Jake said you have stuff for us."

"These might come in useful. Sorry I only have six of them," said Trudy, opening a box. She pulled out what looked like a small collar, and a clip. "This…" she indicated the collar, "straps around your neck. This…" she indicated the clip, "hooks onto your ear."

"A headset," said Matt.

"Right."

"Harry, we should protect them against magical interference."

"Yeah, agreed. Pull them all out." Trudy quickly took all the headsets out of the box, and lay them on the closed link unit. Harry drew his wand, and gestured at one of the head sets, causing it to give off a blue glow several times. "Energia segregatus!" he finally commanded, getting a strong green flash out of it. "That should do it. And Matt… that's a brilliant idea. Why doesn't magic mess with Muggle equipment here? Or the better question… could we perhaps influence the magic here so it WILL?"

"The flux vortex interferes with our navigation equipment," said Trudy.

"That's just minor, likely only a magnetic problem. No, what I mean… magical interference great enough to actually BREAK Muggle electronic items. In our world, this stuff would never work at Hogwarts, unless it was protected."

"And whatever you just did to that headset—" Trudy gestured to the now protected headset, "—would work there."

"Yeah, definitely."

"You wear the collar like this," said Trudy, and she helped Harry to put one of them on. "You press here—" she pressed a finger against a button on the collar, "—to speak into it."

"Great. Matt…" Harry helped him to put one on.

"The thing is, I like the idea of using rocks a lot better," Matt said, as Harry adjusted his headset, "It's simpler to pull off."

"It might not work against the Valkarie," said Trudy, "That needs a more powerful punch."

"A couple of 'reducto' curses should do it then. My magic is a little stronger here."

"You guys had better get back."

Arriving back at the tree, the discussion was still under way, with Jake relaying Harry's idea of using the banshees to drop rocks on Quaritch's strike force. The other clans seemed to like the idea.

"Something that just made things a little easier," said Harry, producing the headsets. He passed one to Jake, one to Neytiri, and one to Tsu'tey. He then began duplicating the remaining items. One went to Bill, another to Remus, and yet another went to Sirius.

"You guys will be on the ground," said Harry, gesturing to Remus and Sirius, "Disillusion yourselves, and take out ground forces. Bill… you have your broom still?"

"Of course."

"Good. You'll be in the air with us," Harry decided, as he helped Bill put on his headset. Jake was helping Neytiri and Tsu'tey with theirs.

"Norm… go with Remus and Sirius. Help them with the ground forces," Jake decided.

"In the meantime, I need to return to the trunk for a moment. I need an opinion on something, and there's only one pair of twins I know of that might have an answer."

"Jake has told me about your home," said Neytiri.

"I'd take you guys along, but… our air is hard to breathe," said Harry.

"About that," said Remus, "Cast a bubble-head charm on them. It creates 'breathable' air for the wearer, not the caster."

"You sure?"

"He did teach Defence Against the Dark Arts," Sirius reminded.

"Right." Harry pointed his wand at Jake, producing a bubble-head charm. He repeated the process for Neytiri. "All right. Grab an arm, or a shoulder." Both Jake and Neytiri reached down, gripping Harry's shoulders, while Matt gripped Harry's right forearm. He gave a slight twist, and the four of them vanished with a noisy CRACK.

They reappeared in the entry hall of the container, and almost bumped into Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry dear—OH MY WORD!" she almost shrieked, seeing Jake and Neytiri.

"Mrs. Weasley… they're friends," Harry reassured, "Jake, Neytiri… this is Molly Weasley, Bill's mum."

"Glad to meet you," said Jake, offering a hand. Mrs. Weasley had to reach up to accept it, and shook it gingerly. "This is my mate, Neytiri."

"Albus said something about you being in another world again… my word!"

"yeah, and it ain't all roses. Are the twins around, or are they in the castle?"

"In the castle, I think," answered Mrs. Weasley, although she was still eyeing the two aliens.

"Great. Dobby?" The house elf in question appeared with a light POP. "Harry Potter call for Dobby—" and he let out a loud squeak, seeing the two Na'vi.

"Dobby… these are friends of mine, Jake, and Neytiri. Guys. This is Dobby, one of my dear friends, and a helper in my home."

"Dobby is wondering, what is you's? Dobby never seen your likes before."

"No, you wouldn't," answered Jake, as it was now his turn to stare, not seeing such a creature before, "We are Na'vi, from a different place than here. Harry hasn't told you, I guess."

"Dobby is not bothering the great Harry Potter with his personal business, it isn't his place to ask, it isn't!"

"Oh, I see," said Neytiri, "You are a slave, then?"

"No, no definitely not," answered Harry, "They're paid for helping, but… Dobby and the two others I have here are part of my family as much as employees, if that makes any sense. Right… Dobby… I need you to locate Fred and George for me. It's important."

"Dobby fetching right away!" and he vanished, with a light POP.

"Sorry about the low head room," said Harry, gesturing to the lower corridor. "How's the air?"

"Fine, just fine," answered Jake, as they crouched slightly, and followed Harry through the corridor. They passed swiftly through the third, and second trunks, to arrive in the original. This time, rather than go straight in, they took the stairs, and arrived at another door, which stood open.

"This is Jiro and Zachariah's apartment," said Harry. Music could be heard coming from their office, and that's where they headed.

"Harry," Jiro greeted. Zachariah got one look at the guests, and his jaw dropped. "Holy shit!"

"Zack. These are the people Harry's been helping," Jiro explained, as Jake held out a hand. "Jake Sully. And this is Neytiri."

"P-pleasure."

"Zack is my mate," said Jiro, then to Harry, "What do you need?"

"Looking for the twins, actually. Unless you might know of something about disruptive magic. Or more like, how to cause it."

"You mean, accidental magic."

"Something like that, yeah."

"You want to attack Hell's Gate with it," Jake guessed.

"Exactly. Put them in the dark for a while, preferably not long before their departure time tomorrow morning."

"You do it magically, it wouldn't be a quick fix either," said Jiro. Zachariah, meanwhile, couldn't take his eyes off the much larger Na'vi. Sure, he'd seen his share of magical creatures—very alien to him, being a Muggle. These people, or beings, on the other hand, were most definitely different, but at the same time, very much the same.

"Harry… I think Jiro's partner's enthralled by our friends," Matt snickered.

Suddenly, there was a loud BANG which reverberated through the trunk, accompanying a slight shudder.

"Stay here," Harry warned, then grabbed Matt's forearm, and the pair vanished with a slight POP. They reappeared in his bedroom, and quickly activated the special map which lay open on the drawing table.

"What was that, dear?" Lily questioned from her portrait.

"Someone's trying to get into the trunk," answered Harry, taking a quick glance at the map. He let out a snort. "Should have known." 'Delores Umbridge' was labelled only inches from where his trunk was in the fifth year boys' dormitory. Re-asserting his fifteen-year-old appearance, he travelled back to the entry hall, to the door which accessed the dormitory.

"Professor, I'd like to know what the hell you think you're doing," said Harry, harshly, stepping into the dormitory, and closing the door behind. Matt stepped through only a moment later, also making sure to close it after.

"You have not been sleeping here in your dormitory, Mr. Potter," the squat witch spoke, "and I'm here to get some answers."

"You won't get them by destroying my belongings."

"I am High Inquisitor, and I demand—"

"Demand all you want, professor, but like I said, destroying my belongings just makes me angry. You could have just asked." Harry gestured with his wand, causing the trunk to pop open. "Have a look, if you're so determined. But do a stunt like this again, and the Board of Governors will hear about it."

"Oh, I don't believe the Board will wish to cause me grief, Mr. Potter," Umbridge simpered, as she rummaged through the public compartment of the trunk. "I also have to ask, where that door leads to."

"That's a question you will never know the answer to, _Delores_," said Harry, gesturing sharply with his wand, "OBLIVIATE!" The hated teacher had a stupid expression on her face for a moment, as though she had forgotten what she was doing. She stared blankly at the trunk for a moment, then slammed the lid closed. "Now if that's all, I've got other things to do other than to fight with you and Fudge."

"You WILL show respect for the minister, Mr. Potter!"

"When he shows ME some respect, he might get it in return!" Harry shouted right back.

"All right there, Harry?" questioned Ron, stepping into the dormitory. He stopped short, seeing Umbridge.

"This is none of your concern, Mr. Weasley."

"The hell it isn't," Harry shot back, "You provoke me every chance you get. I promise you, Delores Umbridge. One day, you won't be protected by the Minister and his blind ambitions. When that day comes, you will have a lot to answer for."

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Potter," Umbridge simpered, letting out another girly laugh, "We'll be seeing the headmaster now."

"Fine. Lead on, then," said Harry, indicating the exit to the common room. Umbridge set off, with a smug look on her face. She didn't see Harry again raise his wand. "OBLIVIATE!" The professor stopped abruptly, with yet another vacant expression on her face. "What… what am I doing here?"

"No clue, Professor," said Harry.

"Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey, professor?" Matt threw in, duplicating Harry's pleasant demeanour. Umbridge again looked blankly at them, then turned on heel, and waddled out. The two of them waited until she was long out of earshot, then burst into gales of laughter.

"Harry… that was bloody brilliant!" Ron finally managed, trying to catch his breath.

"It'll keep her guessing for a while that's for sure," Harry answered, "Come on, back to the trunk."

"Harry… why not do that a little more often… like, at the start of class and so on? Even she might begin to think she's going mental—suffering from Alzheimer's disease or something like that."

"Al-zeeemer? What's that?" questioned Ron.

"Alzheimer's disease. It's a type of illness that attacks the brain. It makes people forget things," answered Matt, "It's usually fatal in the end."

"Good plan," Harry agreed, "But let's get back to the trunk. Ron… you haven't seen Fred and George lately?"

"They might be off to the Quidditch pitch for some extra practice."

"Okay, never mind. I asked Dobby to track them down," said Harry, as he pulled the door open which led back into the trunk.

Returning to Jiro's office, they found Jake and Neytiri speaking with Jiro and Zachariah, with Jiro skimming through a thin notebook.

"What happened?" questioned Jiro, seeing Harry, Matt, and Ron enter.

"Umbridge was trying to break into my trunk."

"So he obliviated her… twice."

"Jesus… that's a little nuts, isn't it? To curse a teacher? I know it's Umbridge, but still… if she's trying to get rid of you…" said Zachariah.

"She won't remember me doing it, that's the beauty of memory modification charms."

"Until the Ministry undoes the charms," Jiro reminded, "Surely you remember that, right?"

"So we'll keep her busy until I can figure out something a little more permanent."

"Who is this woman you speak of?" questioned Neytiri.

"Nothing you guys need to worry about. Although I'd love to feed her to Toruk."

"No, mate, she would probably make him sick," Matt snickered. Just then, Fred and George stepped into the office. Having already seen Jake before, both of them gave him a nod.

"What's wrong?" questioned George.

"Do you guys know anything about disruptive magic?"

"You mean as a distraction?" questioned Fred.

"Dung bombs are quite effective if that's what you're wanting to do," George threw in.

"No. I mean, enough to disrupt or break Muggle electrical items," Harry clarified. George seemed to think a moment, but Fred questioned, "How much of a disruption?"

"You know what a generator is?" questioned Jake.

"Somewhat. Zack has been helping us understand a bit more about the Muggle world."

"Something that would take out a large generator, then."

"Why go through the trouble? Just sneak in with your invisibility cloak and destroy the machine," said Fred, with a shrug.

"You would have to get into the area in the first place," said Jake, "Am I right?"

"Yeah, good point. But I'd also rather not damage the building itself and kill people who might be innocent in all this."

"No sky person is innocent!" Neytiri spat.

"Neytiri. There are some working for our side," Jake reminded.

"A well-placed 'reducto' curse should do it in pretty nicely," said Zachariah, "The collateral damage should be good enough to put them in the dark for a while."

"Would that work?"

"You'd need to take out the back up system as well," said Jake, "It would disrupt the air purifiers, but everyone should have access to exo-packs if they're needed."

"Great," said Harry.

"An even better idea would be to take over their computer systems."

"Zack. Somehow I doubt you'd be able to break into their systems. Their systems are likely years ahead of us," Jiro reminded.

"What year is it exactly in Pandora, anyway?"

"Twenty-one fifty-four," answered Jake.

"Damn. A hundred-forty-eight years' difference," said Jiro.

"A hundred and fifty-nine for most of us," Harry threw in, getting strange looks from both Neytiri and Jake. "Hey, I wasn't kidding when I said we were from a different world."

"it doesn't matter what kind of computer system they're using. These two—" Zachariah gestured to the twins, "—were brilliant at making Muggle technology work with magic. How many computers did we break into using that?" He pointed to a thin tablet-like device resting on one of the shelves.

"Too many to count… fucking lucky we weren't arrested on several occasions," Jiro snorted.

"Hey, that looks a lot like some of the tablets we use," said Jake, "Bring it with you, we'll try and get in touch with Max."

"One of your inside guys."

"My _only_ inside guy," Jake corrected.

"So it's back to the link units, then?" Harry guessed.

"Yeah."

It was a good thing they checked before stepping through the airlock in the container, for just outside, sat two Scorpions—powerful assault aircraft deployed by SecOps. It looked like at least a dozen soldiers had been deployed to the area.

"A good thing we moved the link units," said Jake.

"Where to?" questioned Harry.

"Not far from the Tree of Souls."

"Why not bring the equipment into the container? From what Harry's explained to us, you kind of need that unit to, um… be in that body, right?" questioned Zachariah, "So what happens if those guys out there find it and destroy it?"

"We'd have to cast a few charms on the equipment so it'll work in here, but Zach's got a good point," Harry agreed.

"Do it tonight when I sleep," said Jake.

"Right now, I want everyone to wait here. I'll be right back." Harry gave a slight twist and popped away.

He returned only a few seconds later, bringing a strange looking cloak, and a folded map. "Knew I was forgetting a couple of things." He slipped the cloak on, and vanished from the neck down.

"Okay, now THAT is creepy," said Jake, while Neytiri stared wide-eyed at Harry's partial disembodiment.

"It was my dad's," said Harry, as the rest of him suddenly disappeared. "Wait here, I'm gonna move the container."

Stepping through the air lock, he took a quick glance toward the research module left behind by the scientists. The soldiers were combing through the area, likely looking for clues as to where Jake and the scientists had gone. 'Good luck with that,' he thought, as he drew his wand, and shrunk his container down. He Disapparated.

Appearing not far from their camp site at the Tree of Souls, Harry stepped into the tent, where he removed the cloak.

"Harry. What happened?" questioned Bill.

"Ran into the 'Sky people' back at the research site. We had to move the container. Never mind the fact Umbridge tried to break into my trunk."

"When?"

"Just a few minutes ago. She won't remember it though," said Harry, with a nasty smirk. "Now I have to find a new spot for the container." He peered outside the tent, and suppressed a mental sigh. The entire area was crawling with Na'vi, thanks to Jake's efforts. It would be nearly impossible to place the container anywhere near the area… and placing it in the caldera was out of the question. He realized the importance of the location, and putting anything foreign there was sacrilege. He set the container down, and without resizing it, removed the door with a gesture from his wand. "We'll put it in here for now, then."

"I'll help move a few things," Bill offered.

A few minutes later, an area had been cleared along the back wall of the tent, where Harry then installed the door. "Gotta love magic," he smirked, as the door blended in to match the surroundings.

"What took so long?" questioned Matt, as Harry stepped back into the container.

"Moving it to camp wasn't exactly easy," Harry reminded, "The place is crawling with Na'vi, remember? I wasn't exactly willing to walk up to some of them and ask them to move. Quite likely none of them would have understood what I was asking as it was."

"How many can speak English?"

"Not enough of us," answered Neytiri.

"We'll need to look into translation charms then," said Jiro.

"There is such a thing?" Neytiri questioned, surprised.

"I've heard of them, yeah," answered Jiro, "It wasn't anything we needed, so I didn't check into it."

"How well would it work?" Jake asked.

"From what I heard, the user could speak a language fluently. But again, it's only what I heard, so I'd have to check into it."

"Could be useful. Let's get back to camp."

Moments later, they stepped back into the tent. Neytiri once again looked VERY confused at the transition, but Harry only grinned. Even with the chaos looming on the horizon, magic WAS a lot of fun at times.


	41. Hell's Gate Insurgency

_Thanks __for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted June 28, 2010._

_Caution: Coarse language, major spoilers for "James Cameron's 'Avatar'"_

_/Italicized text/ - Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XL-  
HELL'S GATE INSURGENCY**

**Or, the calm before the storm, if it could be called that  
**

**

* * *

**That evening, Harry and his friends helped Jake and Norm move two link units into the container, after casting charms on the equipment to ensure it would work in the magically saturated environment that was Harry's home. Jiro's magical power cells came in very handy, being more than capable of providing the amount of power required to drive the two units. Both Jake and Norm were more than intrigued by the devices, and Harry knew there would be plenty of questions sometime in the future.

It had taken about an hour to get everything set up, as well as the required creation of a new room. There was still more than enough room to expand, and so Harry had been generous with the addition, leaving one side of the room for link units, the other for two comfortable beds. Both Avatar drivers were more than appreciative of the effort.

Once he was sure they were settled in for the night, Harry had a quick meeting with Jiro and Zachariah, and asked them to help Jake and Norm in the morning.

"They'll likely be up before dawn, I'd imagine," Jiro noted.

"Yeah, likely. Which means I need to get back to the Tree of Souls. I'll see you guys in the morning," said Harry. He vanished with a loud POP.

* * *

Dawn had yet to break, when Harry felt someone prodding his side.

"Harry? Time to get up."

"What time is it?" Harry mumbled, trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. For the second night in a row, Harry and his mates slept beneath the gnarled willow tree. It had been Bill who woke him.

"Just after four. You wanted to be at Hell's Gate for five, remember?" Bill reminded.

"Right. Or more like, my clone is going to Hell's Gate. He's 'expendable', after all."

"Jiro and Zachariah plan on going too," Matt reminded, sleepily, as he too rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He sat up, and gave a stretch. Just then, Jiro and Zachariah appeared with a light 'pop'.

"'morning, guys," said Zachariah.

"Hey."

"Hope you didn't mind, but I got Kreacher to set out breakfast for us. He should be bringing it along shortly," said Jiro.

"Great, that's great," Harry agreed, looking around. Most of the Na'vi were just waking up themselves, softly illuminated by the Tree of Souls. The appearance of a house-elf wouldn't cause too much chaos, then. Jake and Neytiri, along with the rest of the leadership were camped at the other side of the tree, and voices coming from that direction indicated they were already awake. It made sense, considering in just a few hours, they would be likely engaged in combat. Harry gestured to himself, and made sure he was wearing his older appearance.

"Once we eat, we'll be off to Hell's Gate," said Harry.

"'morning, guys," said Norm, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the others. "I spoke with Max last night, he's expecting you."

"Good, that'll make it easier," said Harry, "I'll leave Jiro and Zack with Max, then. My clone will be visiting the manufacturing plant and the refinery."

"You probably don't wanna blow anything up until Quaritch's forces are in the air," said Zachariah.

"Yeah, I agree. I'll wait for word first. Once they arrive here, my clone will start his show at Hell's Gate." Just then, Kreacher appeared with a light POP, laden with a tray of food. Harry quickly moved to relieve him of said tray, saying, "Thank you, Kreacher."

"Master Jiro was suggesting me to bring breakfast."

"So he told me. Best get back to the trunk, there are some here who might have a strange reaction to your presence."

"Kreacher understands." He gave a short bow, then popped away. Almost an instant later, Sirius and Remus appeared, having stayed in the tent at the top of the caldera.

"Harry. Before anything else happens, you need to ask your new friends about article four-sixty-eight," Sirius reminded.

"I'll speak to Tsu'tey before we leave."

"Better sooner rather than later."

"Right. Once I finish breakfast, then. Come eat." Harry produced his wand, and conjured a table and chairs. The tray was set on it.

Just as they sat down, one of the clan members cautiously approached, bringing a large fruit. "Have this… with your food… it make you strong," she offered, squatting to their level, and placing the fruit on the edge of the table beside Harry. It was easily the size of a quaffle.

"Irayo," said Harry, gesturing at it with a hand. It sliced itself into several pieces. The stranger stared at the blatant display of magic for a moment, then retreated back to her family, gathered below the dais, not far from where Harry had set up.

Taking a bite, Harry found the fruit to be tremendously sweet.

"Well?" questioned Matt.

"It's good, of course. Have some, guys," said Harry. The rest of breakfast consisted of usual fare—bacon, eggs, toast, and cereal. There was pumpkin juice, but orange and apple juices had also found their way to the table out of habit now, after Matt and his band mates, as well as Jiro and Zachariah, had pestered the house elves about it.

"What happens when this is all over?" Remus questioned, as he loaded his plate.

"Well. We'll need to decide what happens to the invaders. I think that'll be up to the Omaticaya and the other tribes when all's said and done. But whatever they decide, I'll support them on it."

"You really plan on leaving a connection here?"

"Yeah, I do. Unless the Na'vi don't want us to stay here. But I don't think they'll say that. If this gesture was anything to go by." Harry gestured at the remaining pieces of fruit still resting at the centre of the table. "The Omaticaya have made me feel welcome… and we've only been here a week. And as long as we don't do shit that'll piss them off… I don't think that's gonna change."

"Just keep it in mind, Harry, you have a life back in our world," said Remus, "Running away from your problems won't solve them."

"Remus… I KNOW that!" Harry snapped. He took a breath. "Sorry… didn't mean to snap… but being here… it's been a nice break, even with the problems they have here."

"Which will likely be over in a few hours, if you've got anything to say about it," Matt smirked.

"Exactly."

The table fell to silence for the next fifteen minutes, as everyone retreated to their own thoughts. Harry could see he would have a tough fight ahead of him if he decided to truly abandon Wizarding Britain. At the same time, he could almost see the writing on the wall. There were better places for him and those he cared about—Pandora being one of them.

"'mornin', Harry." Harry turned and looked up to see Jake and Neytiri approaching their table. Tsu'tey and several clan leaders were following close behind.

"Hi guys. We're just about finished." With nods from around the table, Harry gestured with his wand, banishing the remnants of breakfast. "Good timing, actually." Harry stood up, and said, "My oath made the night before last helps in the immediate term. My friends have something that will help in a somewhat more permanent manner." He looked at Tsu'tey, who only gestured for him to continue. "Tsu'tey. Clan leaders. I wish… I would like your official sanction… for us-I and my friends and allies… to advocate and act in the interests of the Omaticaya, and all Na'vi people, to ensure your protection as a magical people, a magical species, according to Article four-sixty-eight of the English Wizarding Charter of sixteen-ninety-seven."

Neytiri translated Harry's words for the other clan leaders, then asked, "What does that mean, Harrypotter?"

"It would mean, in an instance exactly like this, the Ministry, or agents acting on their behalf, would come and help."

"We will not exchange one threat for another," said Tsu'tey, harshly.

"No, and you won't… because I will be the agent responsible. Be it Eywa, or some other celestial being, I've been put here for a reason. I no longer care what that reason is. All I know, is that you have a world here, a culture, a way of life that is worth being left exactly as is."

"What will stop your Ministry, what they might be, from also coming here?"

"There is only one way into their world, Tsu'tey," answered Jake, "I have been through it, as has Neytiri."

"It's connected to my home, which is heavily warded against entry by those who would want to cause me or my friends harm. I count all of you as my friends."

Harry expected each clan leader to stand up and either accept or deny his request. However, each of them only cast a glance to Jake.

"It is your decision, Jakesully," said Tsu'tey. Jake only gave a nod, seeming to think on it for a moment. He'd already witnessed a slice of what Harry was capable of.

"When we drive the sky people away, they will come back, this I know almost for certain," Jake began, while Tsu'tey quickly picked up translating. "To have someone ready to look out for our interests, the interests of ALL the people, it is a sound decision. Harrypotter, I speak on behalf of the people, and accept your proposition."

"Remus…" said Harry. Remus produced a rolled scroll, which Harry unfolded. "If you'll all stick a finger on it." Tsu'tey was first, with Jake immediately following. The rest of the clan leaders present acted swiftly after.

"Remus. Witness?"

"I stand as witness," said Remus, drawing his wand, and touching it to the scroll.

"Harry. I'll stand as a witness on behalf of Gringotts," said Bill, drawing his wand, and also touching the scroll.

"So mote it be," said Harry, as he touched the scroll with his wand.

* * *

At that moment, back in Harry's world, in the records department of the Ministry of Magic in London, a duplicate of the scroll Harry had just enacted appeared on the stack of filed paperwork. The clerk working the desk started, seeing what the document was for, and his eyes widened, as he noted the name of the person who initiated it. This particular document had not been filed in well over a century, after all! The minister would want to see this!

* * *

"Too bad you couldn't do that back in our world, Harry," said Matt.

"Who says I can't? But who would ever agree to it?"

"What does it exactly mean?" questioned Jake.

"I can now issue these…" said Harry, producing two pages of parchment, and doubling their size. He held them up for Jake to read.

"You really plan on arresting Selfridge?"

"Top of the list," answered Harry, "As well as Quaritch. He murdered a hundred people—magical people."

"I don't know what sort of laws there are back on earth here, but in our world, that sort of thing earns a Dementor's kiss," said Jiro.

"A what?" questioned Jake.

"Dementors. Terrible creatures. They feed off the happy memories of their victim, draw out your worst, most horrible memories. Being 'kissed' by one—they will literally suck out the soul, leaving only a shell of a person behind," Remus explained. Several of the Na'vi gathered actually shivered at the implication.

"Eywa would never allow such demons here," Tsu'tey spat.

"No, and I would never bring one here," Harry promised, "I know all too well what they're capable of. If and when we get these two into custody, I'll have them confined magically until we have a way to get them to Azkaban without raising too many questions."

"You would really have them kissed?" questioned Bill.

"As soon as we can."

"Does the ministry really have that authority?" questioned Matt.

"Absolutely," said Sirius, "During the reign of Grindelwald, it was a common thing for a Muggle to be tried by the Wizarding court. Nowadays it's rare, but it most certainly can be done."

"Of course, you could always just hand them over to Voldemort," Jiro threw in, with a nasty smirk, "Their days would be seriously numbered, 'specially if he learned what they'd done."

"And who's gonna deliver them? You?" Harry shot back, "No, we're not handing them over to Voldemort." He held out a hand, and Jake passed him back the pages of parchment, which he shrunk and placed in a pocket. "My clone will need them. Speaking of." Said clone appeared beside him.

"I'll be off to Hell's Gate, then. Jiro, Zack…" The pair latched onto the clone's shoulders, and they vanished.

"You are certain your clone can inflict enough damage on his own?" questioned Neytiri.

"Magic is a powerful thing, you've all seen me in action."

"But Max will likely help him find the armoury," said Jake, "There's more than enough firepower on back at the colony."

"Good, I've passed on the message," said Harry, "We'll try not to cause too many deaths—I've got enough blood on my hands as it is—but it'll still make a statement."

"You hesitate to kill? Why?" questioned Neytiri.

"At Hell's Gate, yeah. There, my clone will likely just incapacitate people—they can be revived later. Not everyone there will be armed, I suspect. Out here, it's a different story. I'll incapacitate people if I have that option… but it's unlikely in most cases. I mean, incapacitating a pilot… might as well just kill them, right?"

"They do not deserve such treatment," Tsu'tey argued.

"Yeah, I agree. But at the same time, we are better people for doing so," Harry pointed out. "We'd best be getting ready, it's nearing sunrise." Just then, there was a loud POP, and the twins appeared, bringing identical brooms.

"Not leaving without us, are you Harry?" questioned Fred.

"No, he wouldn't dream of it," George added.

"Guys, this is gonna be dangerous," Harry warned.

"So?" said George.

"We tried getting in touch with Charlie, but he's still in Romania," said Fred, "And Percy… you know about Percy."

"Thanks, guys. You'll be in the air with us, then. What do you know about Muggle attack aircraft?"

"Wait a sec, Harry. Billy wanted to come as well."

"Harry, no," said Sirius, but Harry only nodded, saying, "Bring him along, make sure he's got a bubble-head charm."

"Be right back," said George. He handed his broom to his twin, then vanished.

"Bill… you mind having Billy fly with you? Considering I'll have Matt with me," Harry proposed.

"Sure."

"Look after him, I'd rather not lose a friend," said Harry.

"We'll all be fine," said Bill, as he pulled both Harry and Matt into a tight hug. "We fly together, right?" With another POP, George reappeared, along with Billy. Jake looked him up and down, and arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"You weren't kidding about another world," said Billy, looking around.

"We told you the truth," said Fred, feigning injury. Billy smirked, as he quickly checked his weapons.

"Right. Let's get serious." Harry pressed the buttons on his radio collar. "Magic one, everyone report."

"Rogue one, copy, just getting airborne," came Trudy's voice.

"Avatar one, copy," said Norm.

"Magic two, copy, no contact with Rogue station," came the clone's voice.

"Magic three, copy," said Matt, although Harry could hear him both in the earpiece and speaking right in front of him.

"Magic four, copy," said Bill.

"Magic five—" said George.

"And magic six, copy," said Fred.

"Magic seven, copy," came Jiro's voice.

"Magic eight, copy," said Remus.

"Magic nine, copy," said Sirius.

"Toruk, copy," said Jake.

"Tsmukan one, copy," said Tsu'tey.

"Tsmuke one, copy," said Neytiri. Harry pressed his collar button again. "If you're unsure, you can use names, but better to stick to call signs if you remember them." He paused, then said, "Let's start getting into position, then. Magic one out."

In less than a minute, the sky was already becoming filled with hundreds of banshees and riders, as the amassed forces brought in by the call of Toruk Macto took flight. Another clan leader was already escorting Norm, Sirius, and Remus to their battle group.

"All right, guys, let's get airborne," said Harry, producing his broom and resizing it.

* * *

Moments after arriving in what had been Jake's quarters at Hell's Gate, Harry got a message. 'Mention the armoury to Max.'

'Copy,' Harry sent back, then, "Okay. Let's find Max, so we can get our part of the show on the road." He opened up the map, and let it render the place. There was still an hour before Quaritch was to roll out, so the place was a bee hive of activity. The very location they were to scout was the center of it all, given it was the source of all weaponry. That, then, would have to wait.

"There's Max," said Jiro, pointing to the label. Their target was working close to a large, circular room. Harry did a quick scan to determine how to get there. The place wasn't exactly friendly as far as its layout was concerned, but Harry quickly memorized the best route.

"All right. Back under the invisibility cloak," said Harry, folding up the map. "Keep absolutely silent… and it would be best if we didn't run into anyone."

"Harry. We know what we're doing," Jiro muttered.

"Sometimes…"

"Guys! Enough," Zachariah exclaimed, "Let's just get this done."

They stepped out into the corridor, and almost bumped into someone—a trooper, Harry realized. He was rushing along hurriedly, likely to meet up with the rest of the strike force.

"Come on, this way," Harry whispered, and they headed left.

As they quickly realized, the colony's living quarters were immense, split across numerous levels. Travelling through so many corridors, they were nearly discovered at least a dozen times, including one incident where Harry was forced to oblivate a group of five people. Being caught was out of the question—one sniff of intruders, and it would be bedlam.

They finally reached their destination, which appeared to be a science lab, like several they had already passed in this particular section. There were a few people present, gathered around one of several computer terminals, speaking in low tones. Harry picked out the target at once: Max Patel was a short but burly Arabic man with slightly wiry black hair and a short beard to match, eyes blinking behind oval-shaped glasses.

"Wand out," Harry whispered to Jiro, and he slammed the door to the lab closed. Max and the others looked up with a start. "Who's there?"

"Dr. Patel?" questioned Harry, shedding the invisibility cloak, but holding his wand at the ready.

"Mr. Potter, I assume."

"Yeah, that would be me," Harry answered, "Sorry for the scare, but… your friends are trustworthy?"

"We've got a plan," spoke one of the men seated beside Max.

"These are a few of the avatar drivers," Max explained, "They'll be taking the Ops center in their avatars."

"Sure that's a safe idea?" questioned Zachariah, while Harry and Jiro stowed their wands.

"No, it's brilliant," said Harry.

"And we hijack the computer systems, no, it makes perfect sense, Zack."

"The computer systems, right," said Max, "Come over here. Any of the machines in here will do, they're all connected to the main network." He indicated a computer on the other side of the room. "Mr. Potter… are you still planning on disrupting the power supply? Doing so would cause a few problems for our plans."

"Right… the link units need the power," said Harry, "No. just as long as Zack can get into the computer systems."

"We probably don't want to cause havoc with them just yet either," said Jiro.

"No, just get into the system," Harry decided, then, remembering what his 'master' had said, he added, "I'll also need to get into the armoury. Magic is a wonderful thing, but sometimes, nothing beats old-fashioned Muggle explosives."

"You're really magical… as in, real magic, not the hocus-pocus bullshit?" questioned one of the scientists. Harry only smirked, gesturing with a hand, and conjuring up a small but rather expensive table. "That answer your question?"

'O', the scientist mouthed. Harry banished the conjured object, turning his attention back to the computer, where Zachariah had already taken a seat.

"Now, question is, will this work, being over a century behind technology-wise?" said Zachariah, setting up his tablet computer. It was the first time Harry actually got to see Jiro and Zachariah work together in such a way, but clearly, the two worked together like Muggle surgeons in the operating room. Jiro was pulling things out of his pockets and resizing them, while Zachariah was hooking things up.

"Breaking into a Muggle automatic bank machine would just need this…" Zachariah indicated the tablet, "and this," he indicated the cable strip plugged into the universal serial bus port. "Now… how do you guys show your credentials?"

"Here." Max unclipped a small tag from the pocket of his lab coat, and passed it to Zachariah, who inserted it into the glowing end of the cable.

"Since this is a much more complicated setup, the other stuff's needed as well." Zachariah gestured to several other pieces of equipment that now cluttered the workstation. The tablet was already showing what looked like lines and lines of clutter.

"And there we go, thanks." Zachariah removed the tag from the cord, and passed it back to Max.

"That's it?" another scientist questioned. The others had gathered around the workstation out of curiosity.

"My system's still working on the security protocols, but it's already into the basic operating system. That's the thing about computers," Zachariah explained, "It doesn't matter where or WHEN they're from. They all have basic truths: they're entirely logic-based, and require some sort of basic operating system to work. Once I get to that, there's nothing the host can do to keep me out."

"Which is why there are at least a dozen warrants out for his arrest where we come from," Jiro piped up.

"Oh really?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Gotta love magic," Zachariah smirked, "Or at least, having a magical partner."

"Max… may I see your tag for a moment?" questioned Harry. Max unclipped it again, and passed it over. Harry gestured with a finger, speaking, "Energia segregatus!" It glowed green for a moment. "Geminio!" An identical clip appeared beside it.

"You've got clearance for most places on the colony, I take it?"

"Yeah, of course," answered Max, as Harry handed him back the original.

"I'll disrupt the computer logs so that sort of thing won't be noticed," said Zachariah. Already, he was using the computer terminal rather than his tablet.

"Unbelievable. That's only supposed to be available to Selfridge and his staff," spoke another scientist.

"Based on how long it took me to break in, I guess no one here thought hacking would be a threat," Zachariah smirked. He was pressing virtual keys on his tablet, while the screen on the terminal was changing, flipping through dozens of screens.

"No… no… no, not that one…" he was muttering, "Logs… logs, where are you… GOT IT." The screen was showing a running operation log, every event that happened on the system. Above that, were several tables, one of them having a massive list containing every resident of the colony.

"That one might get you to security clearance," said Max, pointing to the list.

"This is everyone here? Merlin, there has to be hundreds of names here," said Harry, as Zachariah scrolled through the list.

"It'll make a challenge, rounding everyone up… not that we can't," said Jiro. Zachariah had just pulled up Max's file.

"We'll remove the entire log, and I'll block further entries," said Zachariah.

"Don't forget to lock the file so it can't be modified," Jiro reminded.

"Way ahead of you… and done."

"All right. I'm off to the armoury, and then to the manufacturing plant," said Harry, "Is there any way we can clear the plant before I… well… start causing damage?"

"You mean the stereo lithography plant," said Max, "But yeah, there is a way of evacuating it. You have a way to contact us?"

"Yeah, we're wearing radio sets," said Harry, "Jiro has one."

"Then just let us know when you're ready, we'll trigger the evac alarms."

"Perfect. Now where is this stereo lithography plant?" questioned Harry, pulling out his special map, and opening it up.

"Here," said Max, gesturing to a section of buildings off to one side of the colony. "Be careful, lots of stuff in there that can go boom."

"Good." Harry consulted the map for a moment, folded it up, and vanished under his invisibility cloak. There was a noisy POP only a second later.

* * *

Harry looked down from his broom, as they hovered high above the Hallelujah Mountains. Jake was still flying an easy circle just below him on Toruk, while hundreds of ikran and their riders were attaching themselves to the side of an enormous floating rock. Harry had to grin, seeing the expression on Billy's face. He was truly awed by the sight of massive chunks of rock floating in mid-air.

This group was to attack with their weapons, while another group would attack with large boulders, collected from the ground below. The rocks were broken free of their much larger masses when they smashed together occasionally. Tsu'tey would lead that particular group, who were gathered out of sight in the forest. It had taken a bit of convincing to have him take charge of the group, seeing as he would rather attack the traditional way.

A third force, consisting of nearly four hundred riders on direhorses had converged in the forest not far from the Tree of Souls, prepared to deal with any ground threat. Norm, Remus, and Sirius were among them.

It was nearly 8 am before the attack force was sighted. Harry was truly impressed with the patience of the Na'vi, as the group clung to the side of the floating mountain on the backs of their mounts. They had waited nearly an hour in that position. Harry pressed the button on his collar. "All right guys, here they come."

"Magic two, copy," came his clone's voice, followed by acknowledgement from the others.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sir, we have evac alarms sounding in the stereo lithography plant," said an operator. An image instantly appeared on one of the four overhead screens at the centre of the room. "No indication of fire or other danger—" Suddenly the screen filled with snow, instantly followed by a loud explosion. It was strong enough that the floor actually shook.

"What the hell?" Parker Selfridge watched out the windows of the Ops Centre, as a massive fireball rose from the middle of the stereo lithography plant, a plume of black smoke filling in behind it.

"Evac alarms sounding in the refinery—" Another massive explosion shook said facility, another massive fireball rising into the Pandoran sky.

"Get us into lockdown, NOW!" ordered the Ops Centre commander. Two troopers seated at different terminals set about issuing the order, but suddenly found they couldn't. "Sir, computers won't acknowledge."

"We're locked out as well, sir!" one of the foremen spoke, from his terminal. Three of his screens were now showing blue screens, while a fourth was showing the simple message: "SECURITY LOCK OUT".

"Sir, we just lost communications with the ISV," a trooper working at one of the two immersive workstations reported.

It took only a second for Selfridge to put it all together. This was most definitely not a coincidence. Quaritch had flown off with his strike force two hours ago, leaving Hell's Gate with little security. It was likely Sully and his savage friends knew that… but how? Unless… "Oh shit!" He turned to the officer in command, ordering, "You get on that com of yours, and drag Quaritch back here, you got that?"

"That ain't—" the commander began.

"Sir, with all due respect, he's right," said the trooper at the immersive workstation, "We're being attacked from within!" Another explosion rocked the colony, spewing another massive fireball skyward. The commander only nodded toward the trooper.

"Ops centre to Papa Dragon."

"This better be important," came Quaritch's voice.

"Return to Hell's Gate, sir! We're being attacked from within!" the trooper emphasized, just as yet another massive explosion shook the ground.

"That's a negative, on target now," Quaritch responded, sounding disinterested.

"And we've just lost long-range communications," said the trooper. The screens at the centre of the room had just gone blue as the feed was cut.

* * *

"Magic seven."

"Go ahead," said Harry, hearing Jiro's voice.

"Hell's Gate has been just about neutralized, we've got control of their computers."

"Magic two. Both the refinery and the manufacturing plant have been damaged."

"Copy that. Well done. Stay there, help Max where you can," Harry instructed.

"Harry," came Jiro's voice, "Selfridge tried to call Quaritch back, he was ignored."

"Yeah, probably to save his own skin," said Harry, "Keep at it. Do whatever you need to, to keep them busy."

"They're both deaf and blind at this point," answered Jiro.

"Good show," came Jake's voice, "Tsmukan one, load up."

"Copy, brother," came Tsu'tey's voice, while Harry looked toward the advancing strike force. The largest of the ships, what he knew now to be one of the Valkyrie shuttles, was settling into a clearing in the forest, flanked by a number of smaller tilt-rotors. "Bill, Fred, George, with me," Harry indicated the landing. "Avatar one, copy?"

"Copy," came Norm's voice.

"They've landed on the opposite side of the caldera," Jake warned.

"We see you, we'll circle 'round," came Remus' voice, while Harry, Bill, Fred, and George made a fast track for the location.

"Matt. Remember what I taught you. Strong blasting curses here, do the most damage you can."

"Harry, I know," answered Matt, "I know what I'm doing, I had a good teacher."

"That goes for everyone, make your shots count. Our friends on the ground need all the help they can get."

Tracer fire from behind drew their attention. A quartet of Scorpions had picked up their tail, unleashing a vicious stream of gunfire.

"REDUCTO!" Harry roared, sending a bolt of red magic back at one of the attackers. The pilot attempted to dodge the attack, but the curse slammed into the right rotor, causing it to explode in flames. With only one of the rotors still functional, the aircraft fell into a dangerous spin, and crashed into the tree canopy below.

"INCARCEROUS!" Bill shouted, sending a bundle of thick ropes toward a second aircraft. It fell short, tumbling into the forest below.

"Fuck, too far away. REDUCTO!" This time, the spell blasted through the weapons battery of the target, exploding and sending not one but two aircraft plummeting toward the ground.

"Nice one!" said Harry, while the remaining pursuer opened fire again. They were all forced to duck out of the line of fire, while Billy lined up for a shot of his own. However, he was unable to take a shot, as the remaining Scorpion unleashed another barrage of gunfire. A whoosh, and Harry was suddenly separated from the group, by what he quickly realized was a missile.

"Bloody hell!"

"Faster Harry! Fuck!" Matt shouted, as the deadly device rapidly closed the gap.

"Hit it! Reducto!" Harry shouted, the bolt of magic barely missing as the device continued its deadly run.

"Dive, mate!" Harry needed no further urging, but pushed the broom sharply toward the ground, and pushed it to its limits. He knew that by the strong vibrations he was getting from it. He heard an explosion behind him, but knew it wasn't the object pursuing them—the others must have dispatched the last aircraft. That wasn't important… how to get rid of the missile on their ass took precedent.

"REDUCTO!" Matt shouted, and the bolt of magic once again barely missed the deadly projectile. The canopy was coming fast, much faster than they would have liked, but Harry continued to pull every ounce of power he could out of the broom.

* * *

Jake watched the event unfold from atop his mount, awed at what he saw. The wizards had taken only seconds to dispatch three of the four Scorpions tailing them. Then, the missile. He already knew fairly well what the Scorpions were capable of. They were one of the most potent weapons on Pandora. The missiles were capable of incredible air speeds, and it would take some sort of miracle for Harry to escape. The guy had already cast several curses toward the deadly object, nothing having much of an effect.

Then, he dove. Harry just pointed his broom toward the ground, and pushed it into a vertical dive, much like he himself had done only days ago with Neytiri, to escape the very beast he now rode. They smashed through the canopy at an insane speed, and then… BOOOM! A fireball erupted from the trees, and Jake's heart sank. Apparently, with some things, not even magic could escape.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTE**__: So yes, there are a couple of references here of things that happened in the script, but not in the final movie. This is the beauty of written work, we aren't limited by budgets and on-screen time, etc._

_Now, the big question: has Harry 'bought the farm'? Stay tuned! *cackles with glee*_


	42. What to do With a Dragon

_Thanks __for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted August 9, 2010._

_WARNING: Coarse language, violence(!), use of unforgivables, major spoilers for "James Cameron's 'Avatar'"__, character death._

_/Italicized text/ - Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XLI-**

**WHAT TO DO WITH A DRAGON  
Or, the first battle unfolds**

**

* * *

**

Arriving in the ministry atrium by floo, Cornelius Fudge was inundated with the usual nonsense that always waited for him first thing. However, one particular individual seized his attention, with the piece of parchment he carried with him. With a few barked orders, the rest of those begging for the minister's attention were pushed back a healthy distance, save for the clerk from the records department. The much smaller entourage quickly took the elevator up to the minister's office, the door immediately sealed behind them.

"You have confirmed the validity of this document," questioned the minister.

"Several times, sir," answered the clerk, "It's just as startling to me as it is you. It's been over a century since this piece of legislation has been acted on—specifically, not long before the Canadian Ministry of Magic was formed."

"You've spoken to anyone about this?"

"No sir."

"Good man," said Fudge, then more to himself, "Potter getting any sort of power, most definitely not on my watch!" He turned back to the Aurors acting as his protection detail. "Send for Madam Bones at once."

"Yes minister." One of the Aurors, a rather burly individual, swept from the office in search of his boss.

"Sir, what's really confusing, is the location where this is being enforced." The clerk pointed to the location details on the parchment.

"Pandora? I've not heard of such a place."

"Nor have I. I actually had a look in the archives, to see if there was anything in our history. I came up empty handed on that. That leaves me to believe he's either operating in some other world, or it is as you say, he truly is mental."

"Him and Dumbledore alike," muttered the remaining Auror.

"Thank you, Dawlish." The minister turned back to the page of parchment that was causing such a commotion. "Even so, I want to be sure of exactly what this means."

"As far as it being an active and binding agreement, I can assure you for certain, it is genuine, sir," said the clerk, "I've dealt with more than enough treaties and documents of this calibre to know the difference. And sir, this document does not give Potter the power to supersede the Ministry and its directives; merely, it gives him the authority to assert its authority."

"Acting in my stead, is what it means," Fudge shot back, "The boy cannot ever be allowed to have that sort of power!"

"Sir, you're still not understanding me. He can never assert those powers HERE. The assertion of power is very specific in that, he can only assert the powers of the ministry on Pandora, wherever this place might be, nowhere else."

"What the document might SAY he can do, and what he CHOOSES to do are two DIFFERENT things!" Fudge almost shouted, then, "I intend to determine exactly where this place is, and more importantly, find out exactly what his reasons are for acting in this manner."

"It might be wise for us to implement our own agent there, Minister," offered Dawlish.

"Yes, my point precisely. Weatherby!"

* * *

"Magic one, you copy?" came Jake's concerned voice over the headset.

"Harry?" came Bill's equally concerned voice.

"Magic one, copy," Harry quickly answered, "Bloody hell that was close."

"We're coming up on the landing site now," came Norm's voice, "Harry, where are you?"

"You just passed under us," answered Harry, as he dropped to their level, and fell in behind. Already, they could hear the sound of engines powering up, as the Valkyrie began to lift off, having unloaded its lethal cargo.

"Harry. Stay with the air units, we'll handle the ground forces," said Remus. He had been paired up with an Omaticaya hunter on a direhorse, as had Sirius. Norm, being in his avatar body, rode alone.

"Copy that," answered Harry, directing his broom skyward. He cleared the canopy just in time to see a loaded Sampson erupt into a ball of flames, and fall ungracefully from the sky. He spotted Billy with a nasty smirk on his face.

"All right there, Harry?" came Bill's voice.

"Yeah, fine. It was close, we ducked behind a tree, it couldn't correct its course fast enough," Harry answered, "Back to business guys."

He'd no sooner said that when the ground below was suddenly riddled with gunfire, the sound instantly reaching his ears. He gestured with a hand, and the others on brooms fell in behind, as they dove back into the forest.

"Harry, what are you doing? We got this!" came Norm's voice. Harry ignored it and flung a blasting curse at the first target he could see, one of those giant robot-machines. It crashed to the forest floor, having lost the man at its controls.

Fred and George also unleashed curses of their own, laying out three more of the monstrosities. The Muggles tried to fire back, but the foliage was more than ample cover, as the group flew easily amongst the trees. The Na'vi, although they had lost a third of their number in the assault, took advantage of the surprise attack from above, and counter-attacked, putting the Muggle forces on the defensive.

"Harry, really, we can handle these guys now," came Remus' voice, "Get back in the air like we planned."

"Copy," Harry agreed, "Magic four, five, and six, to me." He cast one more blasting charm at an exposed machine, then lifted skyward, punching through the canopy.

"Tsmukan one, load up," came Jake's voice. Harry did a three-sixty, looking for the great beast and its rider, but they were out of sight. Come to think of it, Harry and his friends were the only ones in the air against the enemy. Where did everyone go?

"Toruk, where are you?" Harry questioned into his headset.

"We're hidden, and so should you. Stay in the canopy."

"Rogue station is about to launch their part of the show," came Jiro's voice, "We're moving to the link room."

"Magic two, I'm moving toward the Ops Centre," came the voice of the clone.

"Apparate back to us and collect us," came Jiro's voice, "We'll help there once we help the avatar drivers link up."

"Link up?" questioned Harry.

"Get transferred into their Na'vi body," came Jake's voice.

"Right." Harry, Bill, Fred, and George had again retreated to the canopy.

"Avatar one, we'll help you guys out for now then," Harry decided.

"Copy. You have an estimate of how many are left?"

"Likely a third of their original force," answered Sirius.

"Great." He turned back to the others, saying, "Come on, let's get behind them. We'll force them to surrender."

"Harry, they probably won't," said Bill, coming up on Harry's left, "They'll likely fight to the death."

"We'll see," answered Harry, "We'll see." They were already flying over the battle zone, smoke wafting up into the canopy, the mark of destruction below. Partially unfolding the map, he could make out the battle line, and as his godfather had guessed, the invasion force had been trimmed to only two thirds that of the Na'vi defenders. 'Time to make that point crystal clear,' Harry thought, as they passed over top of the battle.

* * *

For Corporal Lyle Wainfleet, the attack had gone well for the first minute. Then, the people on… brooms? Was he seeing that right? They came out of the canopy, blasting away at their line with devastating effect, exactly like what had happened days earlier with the dozers. Who were these people? Why would they side with a bunch of savages? He again raised his GAU-90 to lay fire on the re-energized Na'vi line that approached, when he felt the AMP suit he was in wobble just a little. It seemed to right itself, only to fall onto its side.

"Ooof," Wainfleet managed, before succumbing to unconsciousness.

He came to only a few seconds later, to find a stick pointed directly at the end of his nose.

"You twitch an inch, I'll curse you to Hades and back."

"Who… where—"

"Where are you? Wow, mate, you must've sent him 'round the twist," said another man, coming to stand beside him. Gunfire was still erupting around them, so clearly the battle wasn't over.

"Now. You activate your nice little comm. Unit you've got there, and call your buddies back."

"Or what? You'll kill me?" Wainfleet almost laughed, "I'm not afraid to die!"

"Oh, but… my friend, there are things FAR worse than death," the stranger answered, letting out a small giggle. A pair of Na'vi were standing directly behind at this point, their weapons also drawn. A look of fear briefly crossed the man's face, and the stranger only smiled. "Well? Do you surrender, or shall I have to use persuasion?"

"No."

"No, what?" questioned the stranger.

"No surrender."

"Fine. Matt… you'll probably yell at me for doing this later, but…" the stranger levelled his 'stick' at Wainfleet's chest, and whispered, "Crucio."

PAIN. Pain beyond anything the Corporal could possibly imagine, coursed across every square inch of his body. His screams seemed to drown out the gunfire around him. He arched into C-convulsions several times, while at others, he writhed on the ground.

"HARRY! Enough, you'll drive him nutters!" Matt pleaded. Only then, did the curse at last end. For what seemed like several minutes, he lay on the forest floor, panting, his voice raw.

"Now. You should know, that particular curse can drive someone to insanity and beyond. That said, do you surrender?"

"Y-y-yes… I… I… surrender. P-p-please, no more," Wainfleet practically begged. At that time, three more brooms swooped in from the canopy.

"Harry, what was that? Sounded like someone was being murdered," said one, having flaming red hair.

"I just needed someone to loosen his tongue a little, is all," answered the one Wainfleet now knew as Harry. He knelt down beside Wainfleet, saying, "Call your men back here. They will drop their weapons, or ALL of them will get a dose of what I just did to you. Understand?" Wainfleet nodded vigorously, and sat up. He pressed the button on his collar. "Ground units back to my position, NOW."

"Copy that," he heard.

"And…" Harry prodded.

"Dispose of your weapons," Wainfleet instructed.

"What?" came several cries over the headset.

"This is Papa Dragon, what's going on down there?" came Quaritch's voice.

"Request immediate extraction, sir!" answered Wainfleet.

"Stupefy," Harry intoned, and Wainfleet slumped back to the ground, unconscious.

"What magic was that you used?" questioned one of the Na'vi hunters behind Harry, as he put the unconscious trooper into magical bindings.

"What I just did, or before?"

"Before."

"Something I shouldn't have, but it was necessary," said Harry, gesturing to his left. The remaining ground forces were approaching cautiously, hands in the air, absent of weapons. His 'scare tactic' had actually worked, and now nearly two hundred men were gathering under the watchful eye of the defenders.

"Harry… Jesus, you told me that was unforgivable," said Matt.

"I know… but sometimes…"

"The end sometimes justifies the means," spoke the hunter, daring to rest a hand on the wizard's shoulder.

"Yeah, sometimes. I will feel some regret later, but now is not time." He turned to the two hunters. "Can you guys take care of the prisoners? We'll want to question some of them later."

"The others will help. Go back to the sky and help there."

"Harry… that was unbelievable," said Norm, as he rode up.

"Yeah, thanks. We're going back in the air. Help keep these guys under guard." Norm gave a nod, then spoke to a group of hunters pulling up the rear. They gave a few shouts, then took off. Harry shot him a questioning look.

"I instructed them to find the weapons these guys dropped. We can make use of them."

"Good idea." Just then, they could hear the whine of engines. "Shit! The wanker called for an extraction," Harry hissed, producing his wand. Matt only held out the broom, and Harry mounted it. Matt climbed on behind, and they were airborne. "C'mon guys, let's take these guys out before they find a place to land." He'd just got the words out of his mouth when there was a tremendous explosion about a hundred yards from their position. The concussion almost knocked Harry off the broom.

"Disillusionment charms, guys!" Harry barked out, casting the charm first on himself, then on Matt. Seconds later, the others vanished as well. "Should've done that in the first place," Harry muttered, "We made the same mistake back in New Mexico." The other brooms and their riders swiftly vanished.

With the four brooms and their riders disillusioned, it was nowhere NEAR a fair fight, as the ten Scorpions were dispatched from the sky within seconds, the accompanying Samsons only moments after. The pilots were trying to scan the air for the unseen attackers, their equipment useless due to the Flux Vortex. The thermal imaging displays would momentarily display something, but fritz out a split-second later. They were shooting blind, the best way to describe it.

* * *

The C-21 Dragon gunship led the charge of well over forty aircraft, along with the loaded Valkyrie shuttle, as they pushed toward their target: the Tree of Souls. The sudden whining from ground forces abut an emergency evac, as well as calls from Hell's Gate carried no weight for the middle-aged Colonel at this point. He was mission-focused, determined to see this bomb run to its bitter end. They were then flying beneath the massive floating formations that made up the Hallelujah Mountains.

"There it is," spoke Quaritch, then into his headset, "Valkyrie One, this is Dragon. Target is in sight."

"Target in sight," came the reply.

"What the—" questioned the pilot, as it seemed like the air in front of them was suddenly filled with hundreds of banshees, along with a single, terrifying Great Leonopteryx. It took only an instant for Quaritch to figure out who was riding it.

"SHIT! We've been hit!" came a shout across comm. Unit.

"Aaaah!" came another scream, while the great beast he watched dove for an aircraft directly alongside him.

"What the hell—weapons free, weapons free, engage all hostiles!" Quaritch ordered, as a loud BANG echoed through the aircraft.

"Something fell on top of us, sir!"

"Negative on damage!" shouted another trooper, glancing at his displays. There was a deafening explosion to their right, while the aircraft around were swarming the sky, trying to deal with the onslaught of defenders. Another crash shook the Dragon, but once again resulted in no damage.

"Sir, they're using boulders to take out our gun ships," came a warning over the comm. Unit.

"Copy. Valkyrie One, punch for target," Quaritch again ordered.

"Copy, punching through to target," came the reply.

* * *

When told of the concept of using rocks and boulders to dispatch the enemy aircraft, Tsu'tey scoffed at such an outrageous idea. He and his hunters were trained to use bows and knives, not smash things with rocks! Yet, both Jakesully and Harrypotter had asked him to lead up this particular group, and with some reluctance, agreed.

Now, he understood the brilliance of the plan, as easily a dozen gun ships had already been sent crashing to the canopy below. Most of the boulders had crashed through one of the rotors, a critical part of the aircraft, as Jakesully had explained. The rest had been struck in the canopy, where the pilot sat, effectively putting both pilot and machine out of commission.

Tsu'tey had still not let fly his 'payload' as of yet, but at last took advantage, seeing a Samson rather occupied with two ikran and their mounts. He began his run, soaring up an over the aircraft, and instructed his mount to drop its deadly payload from its clutches. It fell nearly a hundred feet before smashing through the canopy of the Samson, instantly killing the pilot, and crashing through the back bulkhead. The aircraft rolled to a dangerous angle, before plunging from the sky.

"Nice shot," came Harry's voice.

"I do not see you," said Tsu'tey, as he lined his ikran up with the massive Valkyrie shuttle, whose rear ramp had began to open.

"Coming up right behind you, we're hidden," answered Harry. He could barely hear the wizard now.

"We have to stop the shuttle, no matter what," came Jake's voice over the headset.

"Copy that," answered Harry, "Come on guys. Bill and I take right, Fred, George take left. Hit their engines."

"Copy," came Bill, Fred, and George's confirmation.

"I attack rear," said Tsu'tey.

"Careful, my brother," came Jake's voice, but already the Omaticaya leader was lining up for the gaping opening at the rear of the shuttle. Harry could see a massive palette of explosive ordinance being pushed to the edge of ramp, and it was a matter of seconds before they dropped it.

"REDUCTO!" Harry shouted, but the curse missed, hurtling off into space, narrowly missing an ikran and its rider.

"Watch your shots, mate."

"I know, bloody hell!" Harry snapped, urging his broom along a little faster.

Tsu'tey leapt from his ikran to the apron of the ramp, an arrow already notched in his bow. Thwuck! A gunner manning a jury-rigged defence post was slammed against the makeshift wall, a three-foot arrow sticking out of his chest. He spun around, already arming himself, lining up his next target, and pinning him to the side wall. No time to arm for a third attack, he smashed the next on-comer in the face with his bow, smashing the mask. A gulp of Pandoran air, the trooper collapsed to the deck, making sickly wheezing sounds. Tsu'tey spun around to dispatch a fourth trooper, but never got the chance, with the sudden explosion on the left side of the aircraft, followed immediately after by a second on the right, but more forward. The shuttle veered to the right, and the Na'vi warrior suddenly felt ten sharp pains riddle his abdomen, and one through his left ankle. He fell backward, off the ramp.

* * *

Harry had wasted no time lining up a shot, being much closer to the shuttle this time. He aimed his wand, shouting, "REDUCTO!" The red bolt of magic did not miss this time, impacting the rear engine on the right side of the aircraft, causing it to explode.

At the exact same time he had cast the curse, he saw Jake toss something into the intake on the forward engine, and leap off—only to land on the Great Leonopteryx who had been flying just below them. Whatever it was, caused the engine to also explode. The aircraft was doomed.

"Guys, let's—"

"HARRY! Merlin! Get him!"

"Get what?" Harry shouted, but he found his head roughly pointed in the direction the others had been speaking.

"Fuck! Hang on, Matt!" Harry abruptly turned his broom, and shot after the blue speck hurtling toward the canopy, momentarily thankful for the heavier air density, and lesser pull of gravity. He gestured at the falling figure, commanding, "Arresto Momentum!"

"Harry! Where are you! Watch out, mate!" came Fred's warning. Harry looked back, and to his horror, the dying shuttle had turned over, and was making a dive straight toward him.

"Matt… get ready to take over, I'm gonna have to jump off."

"You're gonna WHAT?"

"Harry! What are you doing!" came Jake's alarmed voice for the second time in such a short period. This was going to be insanely close.

"Matt… get ready."

"Harry, NO!" but it was too late, Harry had already bailed from his Firebolt, forcing Matt to grab on and take over, before he himself made a big hole. He pulled up sharply, and blasted back up above the canopy. Harry, meanwhile, landed literally on top of Tsu'tey. It was not exactly what he had in mind as far as softening his fall, but worried about the ramifications of that later. He grabbed the Na'vi by the shoulder, and they popped away. A split second later, the very spot where they had lain erupted in a massive, smoky fireball, as the crippled Valkyrie made one with the ground.

Harry and Tsu'tey landed awkwardly in the entry hall of the container. Harry quickly applied a bubble-head charm to his friend's face, and levitated him through to the main trunk.

"Anyone here?" he called out. Instantly, Mad-eye Moody appeared in the common room. "What is it, Potter?"

"Get Madam Pomfrey right away." He gestured to Tsu'tey's wounds.

"It's unlikely she will be able to help," said Moody, shaking his head. Nevertheless, he knelt in front of the fireplace, and fire-called the Hogwarts infirmary.

"Harry, where's—WHAT. Is. That?" questioned Owen, backing away, seeing the alien in the middle of the common room.

"I'll explain in a sec… DOBBY!"

"Harry Potter call for Dobby?" questioned the excitable house-elf, appearing at Harry's side.

"Calming draught, a pain-relieving draught from my stores, right away."

"Dobby is fetching at once," and Dobby popped away.

"Madam Pomfrey is on the way," said Moody, withdrawing his head from the fire.

"Harry, what—" Owen began to question again, when Harry only gave him a dark look, answering, "A new friend who's been hurt badly. Moody, you mind looking after him? I have to get back."

"Magic one, copy?" came the question in his ear piece.

"Harry, where are you?" came Matt's concerned voice.

"Back in the trunk getting Tsu'tey looked after. I'll be on my way back in a sec."

"Harry, Quaritch is still punching for the Tree of Souls," Jake warned.

"Copy," answered Harry.

"Get back to the fight, Potter. We'll see after your friend," said Moody. Just then, Dobby appeared, while the flames in the fireplace roared to life, and Madam Pomfrey stepped out of the flames.

"Give him both of those potions, it'll keep him comfortable until Madam Pomfrey can help him."

"I'm already here, Mr. Potter," answered the healer. She started, seeing the Na'vi laying prone on the common room floor. Her eyes flicked to the numerous bullet holes in his abdomen.

"Human-like?" she only questioned.

"Yeah, pretty much," answered Harry, "I asked Dobby to fetch a calming draught and a pain-reliever—just leave them with Madam Pomfrey, Dobby." The elf nodded, and passed the healer the potions, then popped away. "Feel free to use my room if you need to, but do NOT take him back to Hogwarts."

"I figured that much, Mr. Potter," said the matron, pursing her lips.

"Right. I have to get back. Thank you all." Harry fled back through the second and third trunks, to arrive back in the container. He stepped through the airlock into the tent, reapplying the bubble-head charm.

"Harry… Jesus Christ you're mental," said Matt. Fred, George, Bill, and Billy were all standing close by.

"Guys, sometimes, I think the exact same thing. Let's get back in the air."

Within a minute, the six of them rejoined Jake and a group of hunters, lining themselves up with the fearsome C-21 Dragon, which retained on its course with the Tree of Souls. No longer disillusioned, they kept their wits about them, as the massive aircraft was well protected. The Na'vi riding banshees were still able to pick off a few of the aircraft, but they sustained painful losses with each Scorpion they brought down.

* * *

The fifth explosion to rock the stereo lithography plant shook the colony with enough force to dislodge coffee cups and other small objects from their shelves and storage spaces, and knocked more than a few people to the floor. An alarm pierced the chaos already unfolding in the Ops Centre.

"Activate fire suppression manually!" the Ops Centre commander barked.

"We've tried that already, the computer's totally locked us out!" the trooper at his terminal answered.

"This is bad, real bad," Selfridge moaned, staring out at the smoke billowing from the refinery. If that fuel ignited…

In the small science lab, the alarm also registered on the computer Zachariah was using.

"What does that mean?"

"Oh shit," Max started, a stunned look on his face. "The fuel storage facility has been compromised."

"How much we talkin'?" questioned Jiro.

"About two and a half million litres, highly combustible," answered Max, "We produce it in the refinery. It's one of the bi-products of the unobtanium refining process."

"Something like the oil sands in Alberta," Zachariah guessed, to which Max gave a nod.

"Magic two, copy?" questioned Jiro.

"Magic two," came the reply, "What's the alarm about?"

"Fuel storage facility, it's connected to the refinery, it's got nearly two and a half million litres of fuel, and I don't think we want that to go boom."

"Err… no," came the clone's startled voice.

"Use the fire suppression systems!" came Norm's voice, "That blows up it'll kill everyone on the colony including yourselves!"

"Fire suppression," said Jiro.

"Looking for it," said Zachariah, again flipping through dozens of screens.

"Max, we need to get moving," spoke one of the avatar drivers, "Fire or not we can't wait."

"Yeah, get linked up. Jiro, help them out, I got this," said Zachariah. The avatar drivers were quickly filing through another door leading into a room directly next door, which Zachariah and Jiro had not noticed to this point. Jiro quickly followed. Zachariah, meanwhile, finally located the screen he needed, and pressed several icons.

"Sir, whoever's in control of the computers just activated fire suppression in the refinery," the trooper at his terminal at the centre of the room.

"Good, at least they have SOME sense of survival," Selfridge muttered.

"And when I get my hands on the prick or pricks, their survival rate will be ZERO!" the Ops Commander snapped. He was clearly not happy about not having any sort of control of the situation.

"Zack, bring the gear, we can work in here!" Jiro called, from the entrance to the room he realized was the link room. Zachariah locked out access to the computer he was using, grabbed the equipment he had needed to break into the said computers, and crossed the room. Stepped into the link room, and Jiro slammed the door. "Colloportus." The door made a strange grinding sound as it sealed itself. "They'll have to blast their way through now," said Jiro. The avatar drivers were leaping into the link units, pulling their units closed, while Max was quickly initiating the links. Both Jiro and Zachariah had already seen this done, having had to help Norm and Jake earlier that morning in the container.

Zachariah, meanwhile, commandeered another computer, pulling up the same screen he had been looking at. The damage had been done, but they hadn't wanted to level the colony… at least, not at this point. He pressed the 'fire suppression' icons for the stereo lithography plant as well. There had been enough explosions there as well. It had been meant as a distraction, for the most part, one which had worked beautifully. They had not been challenged for a moment during their visit thus far. With luck, that would continue.

Harry's clone, meanwhile, was on his way up to the Ops Centre. While Max and the rest of the avatar team stormed from outside (he still didn't quite get how that was to work), Harry would enter from inside, to act in an official role.

* * *

Colonel Quaritch spotted the Great Leonopteryx flap overhead and peel away, its rider missing. He happened to look back, and spot Jake, sprinting along the middle of the ship, pulling the pins from two grenades with his teeth, his face a scowl of pure hatred. He snapped forward, hand travelling to the controls, but suddenly found a stick pressed up against his neck.

"Clear, Jake," said Matt, into the headset.

"Miles Quaritch. You're under arrest," said Harry, while Matt relieved him of his side-arm.

"This ain't over," Quaritch hissed, but Harry was ready, simply intoning, "Stupefy." The colonel slumped against Harry, who simply let him fall to the floor.

"Any other takers?" questioned Matt, wand directed at the trooper at the controls. No answer.

"Good. Radio your mates here, tell them you're falling back to Hell's Gate," said Harry. The trooper hesitated, and it took Matt pressing his wand to the man's private area to get the message across. "Do as he asks, or you lose the crown jewels, got it?"

"Y-yes," the trooper answered, then spoke into this headset, "Papa Dragon to all units, returning to base, show's over."

"Jake, all right up there?" questioned Harry, into his own headset.

"Copy that."

"Tsmuke one, where are you?" questioned Harry.

"I am right behind you," came Neytiri's voice.

"I want you guys to fall in behind us, just to make sure no one gets any clever ideas," said Harry, "I've been taken for a fool one too many times."

"Copy that, Harry," came Jake's voice.

"Magic five and six, I want you guys to head back to the Tree of Souls, let Mo'at know what's happening."

"Copy that," both twins chorused.

"Tsmukan one?" questioned Neytiri.

"He's fine," answered Harry, "He was shot up pretty bad, but I've got a healer from my school looking after him, she'll have him patched up in no time."

"Thank you, Harry."

"All right, best do a check in. All call signs report," said Harry.

"Magic two, moving to Ops Centre."

"Avatar one, holding prisoners."

"Magic three, copy," said Matt.

"Magic four… holding formation with you," said Bill, although his voice was a little hesitant.

"Magic five," said George.

"Magic six, both on route back to the Tree of Souls," said Fred.

"Magic seven, working with Zack in the link room. The avatars are running their part of the operation now," came Jiro's voice.

"Magic eight with Magic nine, holding prisoners," came Remus' voice.

"Toruk, holding formation with you."

"Tsmuke one, holding formation with Toruk."

"Rogue one, copy?" questioned Jake. No answer. "Trudy?"

"Trudy?" came Norm's alarmed voice. Silence.

"We… we will mourn for her later," spoke Neytiri, "We must keep to the task at hand."

"And it's not over yet," the clone answered, "The… hold on, I hear something."

* * *

The Ops Centre had feel into silence at this point, as not much else could be done. They had no communications channels working, and so had no idea what was going on. The computer systems had locked everyone out—even Selfridge himself had been barred from the system. For the time being, he had settled on watching the slowly receding flames coming from the destroyed stereo lithography plant. Watch, and wait.

The sudden sound of an engine had everyone looking up.

"Oh shit," Selfridge muttered, seeing Max behind the controls of one of the massive slash-cutters used for clear cutting operations. Max only smiled, making a rude gesture, and raised the arm of the terrible machine. The powerful cutting teeth sliced through window as if it were a hot knife through butter, sending the occupants of the Ops Centre to flee to the opposite side. An alarm pierced the air as the noxious Pandoran air flooded the room, forcing everyone to scramble for emergency air masks. Using that as a distraction, Max pulled the arm back out, and avatars scrambled through the gaping hole, brandishing weapons they had busted out of the armoury. The troopers had no chance, and it was over in seconds. The avatars were in control.

Only a second later, the door to the stairwell burst open, and Harry strolled into the room, brandishing his wand.

"Afternoon, folks, hope I'm not interrupting," he said, cheerfully, as if he'd arrived for tea. He pressed a button on his collar. "Magic seven, open ground communications."

"Copy," came Jiro's voice.

"We'll open up all communications shortly," said Harry, plopping down into a seat at one of the two surround-terminals.

"Magic two, all clear?" came Jiro's voice again.

"Copy," said Harry. Just then, the comm. Unit sprang to life. "Papa Dragon to Hell's Gate, over." The trooper at the other surround-terminal hesitated, but the avatar closest to him nodded.

"Hell's Gate, go ahead," spoke the trooper.

"Papa Dragon returning to base, Valkyrie One is down, heavy losses, over." Harry reached over and activated the comm. Unit, seeing how the other had done it. "Papa Dragon, Magic Two. I'm sure you've got Magic One behind you, with the deposed Colonel laid out on the floor behind you. Copy?"

"…"

"Copy that," came Harry's 'master', "We're all on the same channel now."

"Magic One? Magic Two? Who the hell are you people?" The Ops Commander questioned.

"That'll be explained in a minute."

"Magic Two, let the cat out of the bag, I think it's time they know what they're facing," came Jake's voice.

"Sully! I knew it! You traitorous bag of shit, I'll—" Selfridge blurted.

"What, kill me?" Jake laughed, "Love to see you try, knowing what company you have there right now."

"Guys…" came Harry's voice.

"What is he, your twin or something?" questioned the trooper at the other surround-console.

"You could say that. But enough of that. For now, I have some business to take care of. Parker Selfridge. Where are you?" Harry questioned. Selfridge didn't move, but two avatars moved forward and yanked Selfridge in front of Harry. "Thanks, guys," Harry smiled, then his face hardened. "Parker Selfridge. You're under arrest, for one-hundred and thirty-five counts of murder of a magical being."

"What do you mean, 'magical being'?" questioned Selfridge, although the wheels were already turning in his head. Augustine had warned him of something truly amazing happening on Pandora. But… Magic? Harry could already see where his thoughts were going, and simply gestured at the floor, conjuring up a small table. Selfridge stared at the item for a moment, while his brain tried to work out what he'd just witnessed. It was futile, and the man seemed to teeter for a moment, before doing a most ungraceful face-plant, narrowly missing the edge of a nearby workstation.

"Pathetic," Harry snorted, banishing the table. He drew his wand, muttering, "Incarcerous." Thick ropes instantly bound the now unconscious administrator.

"What… why… what authority? This is an RDA operation, we have exclusive—"

"Rights to murder people?" Harry finished, seeing where the man—clearly the commander for the moment—was going.

"We've killed no one here!" the commander answered, heatedly.

"What, just because they have blue skin doesn't make them any less intelligent? Just because they're not human, you believe you have a right to just kill them without consequence? Bloody hell, what Muggle drugs are you all on?"

"They… they were…"

"Just in the way. Yeah, I see. Well, you're about to find out there are indeed consequences for meddling here. See, all of you, are non-magical. It took me a matter of minutes, when I arrived here, to realize this is a magical world, and as such, you don't belong here. Non-magical people cannot know about magic without a good reason. Which, none of you have, by the way. Even if you did, you violated and revoked that privilege, by defiling this place."

"And exactly how are you to 'enforce' these consequences, Mr…" one of the technicians questioned.

"Ah. Knew I forgot something. My name is Harry Potter. Not that you'll remember it for long," said Harry.

"Harry, we'll be a while by the looks of it," came the voice of his 'twin'.

"Copy," said Harry, then, "As to how we will enforce that, you'll have to wait until your significantly smaller strike force returns from the Tree of Souls. Once we have representatives from the Omaticaya clan present, we will proceed. Although I will say this much, the directives I'm acting on have already been put in place, it's only a matter of us making it official after the fact."

"You are speaking for the Na'vi, then?" questioned another technician.

"No. I speak for Pandora as a magical entity. That means, for every plant and animal—and human—who call this place home. I think I can say this much, though, once all this is over and done with, there will not be many non-magical people staying here."

"Heh, like to see you try that one!" the Ops Centre commander snorted, "Don't you get it? Another ISV is already on route here from Earth, packed with people and supplies."

"We'll discuss that once my friends get here." Seeing an odd movement from one of the troopers, he snapped his wand up. "Stupefy." The trooper slumped in his seat. "Search all of them, guys, so we don't have a repeat performance."

It took only a few minutes for the avatars to thoroughly search the technicians and troopers in the room, claiming several hand guns and knives. They had already seized the heavier weapons.

"Just so we're clear. We are in control here. I have a wand, you don't. You don't want to find out what I'm truly capable of… as one of your attack force already found out this morning."

"Quite right, Magic Two," came his 'twin' over the comm. Unit, "His screams were rather colourful. He was quite willing to do just about anything after that."

"In other words," said Harry, "Really, don't push your luck. I'd rather not have to kill today, my twin already has enough blood on his hands."

"Then you're no better than we are!" another trooper spoke out, "You're just as guilty—" Harry laughed. There was no other way to react to it. "Oh Merlin," he finally managed, getting hold of himself, "You're calling ME a hypocrite? Codswallop! No, what I did this morning—or what my twin did, was help a wonderful group of people defend everything that is dear to them! If you call that murder, Gods—Eywa help you all."

* * *

Miles Quaritch was NOT a happy man. He finally regained consciousness what seemed like only a few minutes later, and found himself bound tightly in thick ropes.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Quaritch, did we sleep well?" spoke a man, with stringy, dark hair, and piercing green eyes. Whoever he was, he was a warrior of sorts, if the scars on his face were anything to go by. The face was somewhat youngish, and the guy could be considered handsome, if not for the scars. Yet, the demeanour and the ice-chips for eyes again lent credence to his argument, definitely a warrior of some sort. Another face looked down on him, causing his face to contort into anger: Jake Sully, still painted in war paint. Behind him, stood another one of the natives, and she was looking down on him, a nasty scowl planted on her face. Both of them had to nearly bend over in order to fit in the belly of the aircraft.

"How's it feel to betray your own race?" Quaritch sneered, eyeing Jake.

"I betrayed no one," answered Jake, kneeling beside his former commander, "It is you and Selfridge, bringing their lies to the people. Once we get back to Hell's Gate, it'll all be over."

"Nothing's over, while I'm still breathing!" Quaritch vowed, to which the stranger with green eyes only smiled. "Well, breathing is one thing, Mr. Quaritch. Being sane and conscious, that may be another story. You do remember me mentioning, you're under arrest?"

"For what? You have no standing—" Quaritch began, but the stranger held up a hand. "You'll understand soon enough."

"Hell's Gate tower, on approach," spoke the pilot.

"Perfect timing," said the stranger. Quaritch looked up to see a number of banshees and their riders swooping over the top of the Dragon, taking up lead formation. This was beyond bad.

"Hell's Gate tower, copy," came the simple reply. Quaritch's mind raced for a moment. The tarmac crew could handle things.

"Oh, don't worry about the tarmac crew," said Harry, with a smirk, "My twin's been quite busy this morning. I'll just say this. They'll be waking up to find a new set of rules in place." 'Far beyond bad,' Quaritch thought.

"Hell's Gate tower, you might wanna lower defences so our friends aren't fired on," the stranger spoke.

"No worries there, Harry," came another voice, "We've disabled most of the automatic defences on the compound, Max was rather helpful." The Colonel's spirits fell even more. It was all too clear what had happened. The call from Hell's Gate much earlier that morning had been far more real than he'd imagined. There had been insurgents and sympathisers within the colony. Now, the colony itself was in the control of rebels who sided with the 'blue monkeys' as Selfridge had called them.

The much reduced group of aircraft finally settled over the tarmac. Then, Harry again took control of the comm. Unit. "This is Papa Dragon. Escorting aircraft will land first, one at a time. You will shut down your aircraft, and exit, hands where we can see them. Failure to follow these directions… well… just don't push your luck."

"We copy," came another pilot's voice. One by one, the others confirmed. After all, they were only following orders, and at this point, it was clear who was in charge.

One by one, the accompanying Samsons and Scorpions set down on the tarmac, shut down their engines, their crew quickly exiting the aircraft, hands in the air as instructed. They were swiftly met by Na'vi warriors, who escorted them off to the side.

At last, Harry ordered the pilot to set the Dragon down on the tarmac as well. The engines were silenced, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the rear hatch was opened, and they escorted the prisoners out. Harry had to levitate Quaritch's body out, not wanting to take any chances. The 'escape contingencies' that kept running through the man's head were enough to warrant such treatment. He pressed the button on his radio collar again. "Magic Two, Bring everyone down to the tarmac."

"Copy," came the reply. Just then, Bill touched down on his broom—alone.

"Where's Billy?" questioned Harry.

"I'm sorry, mate, he got it bad in the neck and fell… I couldn't reach him in time," Bill answered, sadly. There was a splatter of blood in his ginger pony tail, telling Harry everything he needed to know.

"FUCK!" Harry shouted, the feeling of anger and loss both hitting him full on. Like most inhabitants of his trunk, Billy had become a good friend. The man had escaped one terrible fate, only to be claimed by another.

"Harry… he is with Eywa now," said Neytiri, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "We will grieve for him later."

"As we will with Trudy," said Jake, sadly. The battle was just beginning to reveal its painful cost. Harry gave a stoic not, determined not to show tears. 'Not before the enemy', he scolded himself in his mind. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and he silently thanked Pandora's deity for those small miracles: his partners were still alive and safe. From that, he drew strength, and again held his head up. "Let's get this business over with."

"Toruk, brother?" came Tsu'tey's voice over the headset. That boosted Harry's spirit even more.

"Brother, are you well?" Jake questioned.

"Healers have me well now, yes."

"Sorry I just dropped you there," said Harry, "But I did what I felt best, I hope you're not angry with me."

"You saved my life, Harrypotter, this I am grateful for. Now if I could return to the battle—" Harry had to let out a laugh. "Tsu'tey, brother, it is done. We have won," said Jake, before Harry had the chance. The response from the Omaticaya leader was a happy, boisterous shout.

"I'll be back in a second to bring you here. You need to be here anyway," said Harry.

"I wait for you then."

"Harry, we travel with you," said Neytiri, holding tightly to Jake's hand. Harry nodded ascent.

Returning to the trunk, they found the wounded Na'vi still being tended to by Madam Pomfrey in Harry's room. Owen, Patrick, and Justin were off to one corner of the room, having dragged chairs in from their studio next door.

"Hmph, maybe offering my room for this sort of thing wasn't such a great idea," Harry muttered, then to Madam Pomfrey, "How's he doing?"

"I've fixed your friend up as best as I can, but, Mr. Potter, I have to warn you. He'll be very lucky if he can walk properly ever again. The Muggle projectile did a lot of damage, that I'm afraid even magic can't fix."

"What are you saying, healer of magic?" questioned Neytiri, having to kneel so she was eye-level with the woman.

"Your friend may lose his foot," answered Madam Pomfrey. The look of horror on Neytiri's face spoke volumes. Jake, however, answered, "He is a strong warrior, this means nothing."

"It means more than you understand, Jake! Ole'eyctan must be strong warrior, damaged foot will make him… inadequate."

"Neytiri is right, brother," said Tsu'tey, his eyes blinking open. This was one of the things Harry hated about talking to people over telephones or radios. It was too easy to mask what condition they were truly in. The Na'vi resting in his bed was in absolutely no condition to fight. It was a good thing the battle was long over.

"Then what do you have me do, Ole'eyctan?" questioned Jake.

"We must meet with Mo'at, Jakesully."

"Can this wait? We've got a certain document to deal with, before the brainless wonders back at Hell's Gate start getting ideas," Harry reminded.

"How important is it for your friend to be there?" questioned Madam Pomfrey.

"For now, he is leader of my clan, my people," Jake answered.

"You understand how important it is to—"

"Jakesully will speak in my stead," spoke Tsu'tey, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Jake, you are Toruk Macto. The people know you will only do what is best for them," Neytiri reminded, again allowing her hand to intertwine with his. Jake only bowed his head to Tsu'tey, speaking, "Get well, my brother. We will return soon."

"Madam Pomfrey, feel free to move him into Billy's room, he… he won't be needing it anymore." The healer only waved ascent, while Harry, Matt, Jake, and Neytiri left the room.

Stepping back outside the container, they immediately apparated back to Hell's Gate. Now, Norm, Remus, and Sirius were present, along with even more Na'vi, and the two-hundred or so prisoners, who now joined the group of pilots and soldiers removed from the aircraft. Harry's clone was present, as were the avatars, and the prisoners collected from the Ops Centre. Jiro and Zachariah were not present, but were likely still inside, keeping an eye on the computers. Harry did a quick check, and confirmed that fact.

"You wouldn't need to worry anyway," said Norm, "Two warriors and one of the avatars went in to keep watch with them."

"Oh, good. I've lost two friends today, nearly lost a third."

"Tsu'tey can't make it then," said Norm. it was not a question.

"The healer from my school is taking care of him for now. We'll talk about that later," said Harry, nodding to his clone. Said clone drew out the scroll from his pocket, and passed it back. Harry opened it up, and cleared his throat. Jake and Neytiri stood on either side of Harry, a hand on each shoulder.

"In response to the deplorable action perpetrated here against the flora and fauna here on Pandora, steps must be taken to ensure this sort of thing will never happen again." Harry looked up from the parchment, casting a nasty glare toward two of the prisoners, who were still bound tightly in magical ropes.

"It is that point to which I take the following action, with consultation and the sanction of the Na'vi people." Harry drew his wand, and held it before him, saying, "I, Harry James Potter, do invoke In Loco Parentis(1), as outlined in article four-sixty-eight of the English Wizarding Charter of sixteen-ninety-seven." All watched, as the magic surged from the document, following as a silver thread, to shimmer over Harry's head. He whispered, "Guys. So mote it be."

"So mote it be," spoke both Jake and Neytiri at the same time. They looked at each other with a smile, as the glowing sphere of magic burrowed itself inside of Harry. "So mote it be," he finished. At that moment, he felt a tremendous surge of magic race through his very core, making every hair on his body seem to stand on end, save for that on his head.

"What was that, Harry?" questioned Jake.

"You felt it too?"

"You felt the Great Mother, Harry, she truly blesses you," spoke Neytiri. Harry had to smile and nod, but turned serious, saying, "The lot of you who have come to this world, you have destroyed a wonderful opportunity. Instead of LEARNING something, you try to do as you've already done to Earth. Acting that way, you've just wore out your welcome."

"Harry, the exceptions," Jake reminded him.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Some of you will be invited to stay. I daresay, it's a short list. You will be contacted shortly. The rest of you, will have seventy two hours to get back on your Muggle ship, and be off Pandora's surface. You will not like it should I have to forcibly, and magically banish any of you."

"And what do we tell those on earth?" shouted a technician.

"You won't have to worry about that. We'll set something up so telling won't be necessary," answered Harry, with an unnerving smile. "Those of you thinking about possibly disrupting this operation, I suggest you forget it. My Na'vi friends here will be taking over security here at Hell's Gate, until you all leave. And as I said, it's your choice how you leave. Three days—seventy two hours. Get packing!" Jake began shouting instructions in Na'vi, Neytiri quickly joining him.

"Oh… one last thing. Miles Quaritch, and Parker Selfridge. They will be detained on charges. Over a hundred counts each of murdering a magical person or being, one count each of engaging in terrorist activities against magical persons or beings, and at minimum, one count of the illegal trading of magical goods or services, namely the substance called Unobtanium."

"But… we didn't know that!" Selfridge blurted, and was promptly whacked on the head by someone sitting behind him. Both he and Quaritch were still laying on their stomachs on the tarmac, bound securely with magical ropes.

"Ah, but… there's a Muggle saying… didn't it go something like, 'Ignorance is no defence'?" Selfridge felt his bladder let go. He knew without question, he was in up to his eyeballs, and no one at RDA would come to his rescue.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: I'm sure I'll probably have a few people whining here about this not being a 'fair fight'. I only point back to what happened in canon. Without the assistance of Eywa, it was NOT a fair fight there either._

_One of the sad points in 'Avatar' for me, was Tsu'tey's death. I think he deserved better, considering the hand he was dealt. You can be sure this guy's gonna be around for a while in TBI. Now, of course, given the injuries he suffered, that will have a long-term effect on what role he plays here, right?_

_(1) In Loco Parentis – Latin for "In place of a parent."_


	43. From Victory, the Seeds of Defeat

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted August 23, 2010_

_WARNING: __Coarse language, spoilers for "Avatar"._

_/Italicized text/ Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_**-CHAPTER XLII-  
FROM VICTORY, THE SEEDS OF DEFEAT**

**Or, events transpire that further influnce Harry's future**

**

* * *

**Neither Miles Quaritch nor Parker Selfridge ever dreamed they would find themselves locked up in a detention cell on the colony. Now, that's exactly where they found themselves, with two Na'vi standing outside the cell, a nasty look on their faces. It had been several hours since the battle, which had never really gotten anywhere. It all led back to whatever happened at the colony. A betrayal from within.

"Mr. Selfridge, Mr. Quaritch, are we comfortable?" both looked up to see Harry standing outside the cell. Wait a minute. He wasn't there a moment ago! Still, they both managed to give the man nasty looks.

"Don't we get a lawyer or anything?" questioned Selfridge, "What about Miranda rights?"

"Not in the magical world, you don't," answered Harry, with a nasty smirk of his own, "We have ways of discerning guilt or innocence. For now, I'm only here for some answers."

"I won't be answering questions without a lawyer present," said Selfridge, defiantly.

"I don't need either of you to talk to me, to get answers," said Harry, calmly, drawing his wand. He pointed it at Selfridge, speaking, "Legilimens!"

A stream of cluttered thoughts flickered by, but Harry wasted no time collecting a few of the important ones, namely the man's attitude toward the Na'vi ("Fly-bitten savages who live in a tree", "Blue monkeys"). '_Racism at its finest_,' Harry thought, switching his attention to the overall operation on Pandora. How often did earth replenish the colony? Were there other colonies nearby? More importantly, what was the company resolve? What would happen when they were sent packing? He finally withdrew.

"I know of a number of people you'd likely get along with, at least for a few minutes. Racism at its finest," Harry snorted.

"I'm not—" Selfridge began, but Harry cut across him, saying, "Calling them 'Blue monkeys', or 'flea-bitten savages'? Sounds like a textbook case to me. In the end it really doesn't matter, because all said and done, you ordered the death of dozens of innocent people. Magical people at that."

"But why do you care?"

"Bloody hell you're thick!" Harry almost yelled, "How would you feel if it were your own family, your own brothers and sisters being murdered in front of you?"

"…"

"These people are magical brethren," said Harry, gesturing to the two significantly taller guards behind him. "Where I come from, they would be at a minimum protected against Muggles—non-magical folk like yourselves. That's where you all crossed a line, the reason you're in there, rather than packing your shit."

He then turned his attention to Quaritch. The man was a real piece of work, having committed numerous attacks and murders over the time he'd been with the colony. It seemed he actually took a bit of pleasure in the hurt he dealt out. He also got a glimpse of a few other faces he'd seen a number of times, including a particular trooper he'd dealt with rather harshly earlier that morning. He pressed the button on his throat mic. "Magic one, over."

* * *

With Fred, George, Jiro, Zachariah, Max, Norm, and the rest of the Avatar team helping the native Na'vi maintain security at Hell's Gate, Harry, Jake, Neytiri, Bill, Matt, Remus, and Sirius returned to the Tree of Souls. The battle now over, the final butcher's bill could be tallied. Harry had seen this many times in his future, the solemn and painful task of finding out how many friends and allies had been taken—either missing, or killed. A battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters always resulted in at least a few being captured. They were as good as dead.

For now, the group collected themselves once again on the dais beneath the great willow. Kreacher had been summoned and asked to bring a number of calming draughts, virtually a must after the ordeal that had been the past few hours.

"Harry. Thank you. Thank you for standing with us this morning," said Jake.

"It was the right thing to do," answered Harry, "There are probably more than a few that'll say I had no business to come here and stick my nose where it doesn't belong. They're entitled to that opinion, just as I'm entitled to mine. Places such as these… are special. It's not a place for people who don't get it… who don't understand what magic truly means."

"I'd agree with that, Harry," said Remus, "Even I can feel the powerful pull which has seemed to ensnare you."

"And what does the wolf think of being here?" Harry smirked, earning a swat from the werewolf. "Hey!"

"My furry little problem might actually like to visit here when he can, shall we say, experience it fully?"

"Remus…"

"Sirius, I strongly doubt there's anything here he can threaten."

"No, too dangerous," said Sirius, again.

"Like I said…" Remus began, but Jake cut across, asking, "What do you mean, wolf? Wait…"

"Yes, I'm a werewolf," Remus supplied, wanting to explain it before someone else beat him to the punch. Jake arched an eyebrow, while Neytiri only looked at him blankly, asking, "What is were-wolf?"

"Do you know what a wolf is?" questioned Remus, to which Neytiri only shook her head.

"Like the viperwolves… but with fur," offered Jake, "And no larger than a cub. But they can be just as vicious." Neytiri seemed to think on that for a moment, then nodded.

"On the night of a full moon, I quite literally transform into a wolf-like beast. The transformations are horrible, and it's best I'm not around others during that time."

"No, still not a good idea to be running around the forests here," said Jake, "Not so much you being a threat to the animals here, but of you being in danger from the animals. Everything's double the size here."

"Viperwolf would still kill you," Neytiri added. She thought for a moment, then asked, "Are were-wolves… a common thing, where you come from?"

"No. Luckily not. It's a cursed life for those inflicted with it. Not only from the pain of the monthly transformation, but from how we are perceived by society. There are many laws in place due to our 'dangerous' nature."

"Remus, we know that's all bollocks," Harry pointed out, "Wolfsbane potions make it much better for you, right?"

"Harry, Remus and I have had this argument many times," said Sirius, "We all know where the government stands."

"Yeah, which is why we've got Fenir Greyback running around, driving most of the werewolves into Voldemort's service," Harry muttered.

"Magic one, over," came over the headset. Harry pressed the button on his throat mic. "Magic one, go ahead."

"Just spent a few minutes interviewing our prisoners. Just wanted to clear it with you before I round up a few more, over."

"Copy, proceed," Harry answered. 'Yep, clone's definitely becoming a little more independent,' he thought.

"Magic one?" came Tsu'tey's voice.

"Go ahead."

"Much older wizard person looking for you. Says come back immediately, it important." Harry arched an eyebrow, then answered, "Copy, I'll be there in a moment."

"Dumbledore?" questioned Matt. Harry gave a quick nod. "You guys coming?"

As expected, the aged wizard was waiting for them in the study when the group arrived back in the trunk. He was holding a copy of the document filed at the ministry. "Harry, could you please explain why you took this sort of action?" His voice was calm and even, but Harry could easily read the body language. The headmaster was NOT amused.

"Harry did what was necessary, sir," said Jake, with a nod of the head, "Without his help… I don't know if we could have stopped the enemy."

"Harry, do you realize what sort of position you now find yourself in?" questioned Dumbledore.

"I know EXACTLY what I've done, sir," answered Harry, "And I will back that document up with action, should I need to. When I landed on Pandora a week ago, I made a promise to these people. This document… it was a way to honour that promise."

"The Daily Prophet is already working an early evening edition to cover this, Potter," spoke Moody, sitting at the far end of the table, "For one who doesn't want attention, you're most certainly going about it in the worst possible way."

"What would you have me do then? Openly rescind it? Sure, that would go over REAL well with my new friends."

"Harry, you have friends here, in THIS world," Dumbledore reminded, getting an angry scowl from the boy-become-man. He let out a snort, saying, "Yeah, right. How many nights have I spent in the Gryffindor dormitory since I got back? Zero. Why? Because Seamus FUCKING Finnegan went off on me because of FUCKING DRAGON SHIT wrote up in the Prophet!" He blew out a long breath, sucked in another, let it out again, forcing himself to calm down. "Professor. I'm running out of reasons to care here. These guys have only shown me respect. Where has the Wizengamot shown me respect, offered to help, offered to train me? They take, take, take, and then, when I speak the truth, they call me a liar. They drag my name through the mud—UHG! I'm TIRED of sounding like a BROKEN RECORD!" He felt two arms slide in around his waist, and yet another grip his shoulder. "Too much more of this, and I'm taking a full page ad in the Prophet, telling Voldemort to 'have at it'."

"Harry, you can't really wish that," said Dumbledore.

"Professor, I can't be more serious. I was sent back in time for a reason. A second chance at life, maybe? But if that means seeing the few friends I have die in front of me a second time, then fuck it all. Wizarding Britain can all go hang for all I care." He made a flick with his finger, saying, "Tempus." '4:50p' wafted from the tip. "I have to get back soon. What's Umbridge been up to?"

"Yes, about that," said Dumbledore, seriously, "She's moving to have you expelled due to your missing class time with no supplied reason." Harry only gave a nasty smile, producing another page of parchment. "My notice to be away from school for an indefinite period, citing a serious private matter. As an adult, I have the right, correct, sir?"

"Yes, indeed, Harry." Dumbledore looked over the document, and gave a nod. "You're covering your absence retroactive to Friday, then."

"Yeah, made sense."

"This will only delay her for a while, Harry. When do you intend to be back to class?"

"Likely Wednesday afternoon, definitely by Thursday."

"Our matters on Pandora, they have been disrupting your education?" questioned Neytiri.

"Nothing I can't catch up on," answered Harry, "Don't worry about it."

"We didn't know…" said Jake, but Harry again cut across him, saying, "Jake. Don't worry about it. I was sent to your world for a reason. Now, I see likely more than one. I'm glad I was able to make a difference… and I'm glad I made some new friends." He again thought for a moment, then said, "Professor, what's Fudge doing about my document?"

"Most certainly attempting to get it overturned," said Dumbledore, "I would still like to know how you managed to even enact such a writ, without my consent nor my signature."

"Simple, Albus," answered Lily, from her portrait, "He didn't need one. With you temporarily removed as head of the Wizengamot, Fudge hasn't named an interim head."

"Bloody moron, leaving such a gaping hole," said Harry, although he smirked as he said it, "Leaving holes that I quite happily exploited. He'd best hope Voldemort and his Death Eaters aren't quite as clever, or they'll have much bigger problems, and sooner rather than later."

"I still don't understand how you didn't end up in Slytherin, Potter," Moody declared.

"Simple. We would've disowned him," James smirked, to which Harry stuck out his tongue.

"Real mature, son."

"Actually, simpler than that. The sorting hat wanted to put me there, but I asked it not to," said Harry, "I didn't want to be anywhere near Malfoy."

"Either way, back on track here, Fudge can't have that writ overturned," said Remus, "We've gone over the actual wording of the law. It would take both a retraction on the part of Harry and those he made the agreement with."

"I won't be revealing who invoked the agreement with me, so no one is tempted to… coerce either party."

"You do realize what sort of power you wield on this new world you have been frequenting," said Dumbledore.

"I do. And I intend to use that power, to ensure the Muggles who have invaded Pandora go away, and STAY away. Far, far, away."

"And you will be forced to reveal exactly what sort of activities you have been doing on Pandora, the Minister will ensure of it," Dumbledore warned.

"That is yet another nail in the coffin of Magical Britain, then. Look, we really need to get back, we're still cleaning up after the battle."

"We should visit with Tsu'tey before," Neytiri reminded, to which Harry nodded in agreement.

"I do wish to meet with you again, Harry. At least to go over your long-term plans for this new world of yours."

"Count on it sir. There are things I'll need some advice on," answered Harry. Dumbledore inclined his head, as the group began to leave.

Tsu'tey was looking much like a caged lion at this point, although still in no shape to travel. His foot was bound up tight in white bandages, propped up on an enlarged pillow.

"Thanks for relaying the message," said Harry, as the group stepped into the room.

"Wizard person was insistent," answered the injured warrior, "I felt… compelled to." Harry scowled at this information. "He cast a spell on you. Nice."

"What kind of spell?" questioned Matt.

"Sounds like a compulsion charm." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, much like he'd seen Snape do so many times. The action of the day was already stressful enough. Add to that a manipulative headmaster… "Tsu'tey. I'm sorry he did that to you. He had no business. I'll have a word with him about it."

"A word, all right. Knowing Harry enough by now," said Matt, shaking his head.

"This wizard, you trust him?" questioned Neytiri, uneasily, "This magic, it is all so new to me. It worries me, that one can do that sort of thing."

"I admit, I've done that before. But this… just because he needed to talk to me? I love the man, I truly do. But sometimes… he really is a manipulative old git. I can't promise not to use such a charm… but doing that kind of thing, I really need a good reason. A safety thing, life or death. Not trivial matters, things that can be solved through other, less invasive, manipulative methods."

"You do not promise to not use such… spells, you call it," said Tsu'tey, "But you act with reason… this I thank you for."

"I'm sorry another has already violated your trust," said Harry, "Bill… would you mind restricting the headmaster from the floo for the time being? I'll send a message along… something along the lines, if another stunt like that happens, I'll evict the entire fucking Order."

"Harry, mate, that won't be productive," said Bill.

"What am I supposed to do? Next thing they'll be slipping potions in his food. Actually… fuck this shit. Never mind the floo. We'll bring him back to Pandora. I don't give a shit what Madam Pomfrey says, she can come through the air lock if she needs to check on him."

"Mother will help him to heal," said Neytiri, "We have herbs and plants that will help."

"Trust magic to help heal things a little faster," said Bill.

"This is true," Tsu'tey agreed, "Damaged foot, would take some time, without help of Wizard woman. This I thank her for."

"It's what she does," said Harry, "Now… it'll be better if I put you in a full body bind before we move you. It won't hurt." The Na'vi warrior only nodded, so Harry produced his wand. "Ready? … Petrificus Totalus!" Tsu'tey seemed to freeze, arms and legs snapping together, so he appeared more like a statue. "Let's go."

Only seconds later, the group was back beneath the great willow that was the Tree of Souls. Mo'at appeared alarmed, seeing Tsu'tey bound in such a way, but quickly relented, when Harry cancelled the binding hex. The warrior seemed to blink for a second, before sitting up. He grabbed the end of his braid, and promptly formed Tsaheylu with the roots that covered the ground.

"It is… good to be home," he said, feeling the calming voices of his ancestors speaking softly through the link. "Your world… Harrypotter… I cannot form Tsaheylu there."

"I understand. I forgot about that, forgive me."

"Maybe if we had some of the wicked plants they have here," Matt said, mostly to himself.

"I don't know if they could survive back in our world," said Bill, shaking his head, as he threaded one of the long tendrils of the willow through his fingers. "They would likely need the same atmosphere, the same soil. Remember your herbology lessons?"

"Not to mention, I really don't think these guys would let us just take cuttings and seeds—" Harry stopped short, seeing what looked like a fluffy pod-like object floating down from the tree. He reached up and let it float into his hand, already feeling the magic radiating from it. "A seed?"

"Yes, Harry," said Neytiri, "The Great Mother blesses you again." Harry only gave a nod, then threaded one of the tendrils from the tree through his fingers. "Thank you."

"We'll need some earth as well," said Bill.

"Looks like we'll be needing a greenhouse then," said Remus, "Sirius, let's get back."

"Set something up in the container. Oh, and watch out for my relatives, I still haven't met with them," said Harry, releasing the long tendril.

"Of course," said Sirius, with a grin. Both he and Remus vanished with a slight POP.

"Neville will want to help out as well," said Harry, "He's the herbology expert in my group."

"Herbology?" questioned Jake.

"It's the magical equivalent of horticulture," Harry explained, "Similar theories, I think, but handling plants magical in nature. Pandoran plant life most certainly qualifies."

"Grace kept going on about all the plants here being all connected. I still don't understand it," said Jake.

"That's the thing about magic though. For someone not born with it, it's much harder to 'get it'." Several female Na'vi were already looking after Tsu'tey, making him more comfortable, with several others setting off into the surrounding forest.

"There is something… something I need to do," said Jake, changing the subject, "My place is here, in THIS body. Not in a body that is broken and useless. Mo'at… I wish to pass through the eye of Eywa."

"It is very dangerous, you understand, Jakesully."

"I know. But Neytiri mated with THIS body, not my human body. I want a chance… a chance to sleep with my mate, not be elsewhere, for her to be left beside an empty avatar. This is not a life for us."

"Wait until we get rid of the sky people," said Harry, deciding to use the Na'vi term, "Then… then this'll all be over, and we can worry about that sort of thing."

"That I agree with, Harrypotter. There is… as you say, unfinished business."

"Definitely. Three days at most, less than that, actually. They really don't want me to do a magical eviction. It's rather painful for the party involved. And here… rather deadly, I think."

"What sort of thing would happen… should you carry out such an order?"

"Well… the last magical eviction I witnessed," said Bill, "The occupants of the residence were literally tossed out the front door onto the street. Draw your conclusions from there."

"Right now… I can already feel the beginnings of magical wards forming. It would take very little tweaking to bring those up to incredible strength, given the level of magical activity across the planet," Harry explained, "The foundations for wards were sewn when the writ of In Loco Parentis was activated. They wait for my intervention, although I think I'll let my partner here do that—" he gestured at Bill, "—he's more gifted with warding than I am."

"I'll need the authority," said Bill. Harry gave a nod, then drew his wand, speaking, "I name William Arthur Weasley as keeper of the keys and wards for Magical Pandora. So mote it be." An enormous thread of yellow magic weaved its way from the ground in front of them, to hover over Bill's head. He drew his wand, speaking, "I, William Arthur Weasley, accept the title, along with the powers and responsibilities it carries. So mote it be." The enormous thread of magic flashed into his chest, causing him to stagger for a moment. "Merlin's beard!"

"Bill?"

"No, no, it's fine… just… didn't expect that," said Bill, as he leaned into Harry for a moment to regain his balance. "Bloody hell, even at an infant stage… very powerful… they'd give the wards at Hogwarts a run for their money."

"Do what's necessary to strengthen them. We'll also need exceptions added for a few people before you power up the Muggle-repelling wards. Norm, Max, and a few others will want to stay with us, likely," said Harry.

"All the avatar drivers as well," said Jake, "Along with a portion of the science team. What Norm tells me, most of those people were here to understand, to learn."

"I'll need Norm to help me out with the list, then. I'll probably want to have a chat with each of them, have a quick peak at their thoughts, make sure they're not just sticking around to cause problems later on. And of course, if this doesn't sit well with the Omaticaya…"

"We don't want sky people causing problems here," said Neytiri, "We have suffered enough by their lies."

"Like I said, I can make sure the only sky people who stay are those with honest intentions toward you. And make no mistake, I won't be going far once all this is done. I still have somewhat of a life to look after back in my own world, but if you guys will have me, I'd rather spend my free time here."

"If only to show us some more of your magic," answered Tsu'tey, from his now much more comfortable position off to the side.

"That I can certainly do," Harry laughed, dragging his hand through the air, causing a bunch of purple sparks to fly from his fingers. The alien sun was beginning to set, and the ancient tree was already beginning to glow in the fading daylight. What seemed like hundreds of Na'vi were once again descending into the caldera, and some of them had been hurt rather seriously. Having been tied up with events in the aftermath, he'd forgotten. He made to leave, but Matt grabbed his arm. "Where you going?"

"To help heal people," said Harry.

"No, it is not necessary, Harry," answered Neytiri, with a smile, "You have done much for us today. Tonight, we will take care of our own."

"Then might I offer something else?" Harry again grasped one of the tendrils of the great willow. "If someone will translate."

"I would honour you by doing so, brother," answered Tsu'tey. Harry nodded, while Mo'at called to the gathered people, speaking in her own tongue. At once, a great number of them plugged their queues into the ground, connecting themselves to the great conscience, to Eywa herself.

"Irayo," Harry began, "Thank you, Eywa, and the great ancestors of Magic. Thank you for standing with us, and behind us, as we fought today… to protect that we stand for… what I stand for." Harry paused, letting Tsu'tey catch up. "My magical brethren, I was honoured to stand with you today. And tonight, I stand with you as we mourn those who now stand with the magical ancestors, with Eywa…

"Tonight I myself mourn the loss of a close friend, one who took the risk of coming here, fighting alongside us, although the cause was not his to fight. Be with Eywa, William Henry McCarty. You will not be forgotten…" he had to stop, as the reality once again hit home. He'd lost another friend to a senseless fight.

Tsu'tey looked at him for a moment, expecting him to continue, but Harry could not, knowing if he opened his mouth, only cries of grief would escape. Sure, they hadn't become best friends or the like, but the guy had definitely become a friend. Much like Matt and Harry, Billy had been in his twenties, and had been a peer. In fact, the latter part of the summer, Harry had spent more time with Billy, Matt, and his friends, than with Ron and Hermione. Now, he'd just lost both a friend and a peer. No question, that stung. Harry let the tendril drop, feeling two pairs of hands supporting him: Bill on the left, Matt on the right. Just before the connection broke completely, however, Harry heard Billy's voice: "It's okay… Harry, I'm okay. Don't get all weepy over me, or I'll come back and kick your ass."

The discussion off to his left drew him back to the present. Part was spoken in English, while other parts were in native tongue, but Harry caught the gist of it: Tsu'tey was passing leadership of the clan to Jake, on the pretext his foot was beyond repair.

"Why couldn't Madam Pomfrey just use Skele-Gro on his foot?" questioned Matt.

"I don't know… but likely because he's not human. Skele-Gro isn't really meant for non-human beings," answered Harry, thankful for the distraction. Jake was still protesting the appointment, but Tsu'tey was already reaching back and undoing the elaborate necklace that hung on his chest. Neytiri was doing her best to convince the still-human-avatar this was the only way, with Mo'at adding her points wherever possible. Finally, Jake let out a sigh, and accepted the inevitable, allowing Neytiri to secure the symbol of leadership around his neck.

"Tsu'tey," he said, "You are still the best warrior. None of you stand behind me, you stand with me. And don't expect me to just… know it all. I will need help, I will need guidance. My cup, it is still pretty much empty."

"And we will continue to help you fill it, Jakesully."

"Ole'eyctan," said Neytiri, bowing like an acolyte. From a sitting position, Tsu'tey mimicked her actions, as did the healers around him.

"Ole'eyctan," said Harry, with a nod, sending another burst of sparks from his hand. He pressed the button on his throat mic again. "Jake is named Ole'eyctan, guys." His ear piece was flooded with words of congratulations.

"Harry," came Norm's voice, "Some of us… along with me… we'll be going to sleep soon."

"Right. I'll make sure someone's in the room back in the trunk to meet you," Harry answered.

"I could return to the trunk," the clone offered.

"No. stay at Hell's Gate, just in case we get trouble. Everything's still okay?"

"Copy."

"We'll make sure Jake and Norm are looked after," Sirius offered.

"Great. I'll keep my headset on just in case, and I suggest everyone do the same. Keep the channel quiet unless it's an emergency," said Harry. Once again, there came a flood of 'copy's', agreement with the plan.

"We're sleeping in my bed tonight," Harry declared, "There are some things that… although we could do them here, might not be appropriate in front of so many eyes." He gave both Bill and Matt a wicked grin.

"Too much information, Harry," said Jake, shaking his head. Harry only smirked, then spoke, "Good night, guys." He grabbed both Matt and Bill's hand, and they vanished with a noisy CRACK.

Landing back in the container's entry hall, the three of them almost flew back to Harry's bedroom, the door slamming behind them. The trio weren't seen until the next morning, and the sounds from within caused more than a few raised eyebrows, flushed faces, and throat-clearing.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTE**__: Just an elaboration on a point that was raised in this chapter, as I'm sure many of you have noticed the lack of Ron and Hermione being involved in many of Harry's adventures. Harry is 27 years old. Hermione is just about to turn 16 (a birthday on September 19), and Ron is just barely 15 (a birthday March 1). So, as was touched upon in this chapter, Harry is finding it difficult to relate to them, because they are no longer his peers. This would also apply to all his year mates. It's only natural he will gravitate toward people like Bill and Matt, both of which are in their 20's, around Harry's age. That also begs to question: what will happen when Cedric comes back, being only 17-going on 18 (a birthday in September, although we don't have an exact date—correct me if I'm wrong)?_


	44. Actions Have Their Price

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted __October 13, 2010  
_

_WARNING: Coarse language, spoilers for "Avatar"._

_/Italicized text/ Na'vi native language._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XLIII-  
ACTIONS HAVE THEIR PRICE**

**Or, consequences of earlier actions begin to be felt**

Harry stepped into the dining room to scowls from the few people present at breakfast.

"You do know what silencing charms are for, do you not, Potter?" Moody scowled, his magical eye whirring madly.

"Yeah, I do, but it was more fun providing the entertainment for the evening," Harry grinned, taking a seat at the table.

"My son the stud," James chimed in, from their portrait in the room. That got another grin from Harry. "And where might your partners in crime be, prongslet?"

"Well… they're… no, you don't need to know," Harry smirked. Moody's magical eye focused toward Harry's room for a moment, only to quickly look elsewhere. "Yes, my boyfriends like each other as much as they like me. Score double points on that one, I think."

"Did NOT need to know that," Moody muttered.

"Well, if you wouldn't keep spying on my room, you wouldn't, right?" Harry grinned, as he loaded his plate. "No matter… any news on Voldemort and his activities?"

"Been very quiet the past few days, since the attack at the ministry," answered a middle-aged witch from down the table. It was a common thing for at least a few Order members to be present in the trunk at all hours of the day.

"Professor Snape is back teaching?"

"Returned yesterday, much to the chagrin of many students, at least from what Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger had to say at supper last night," said another wizard.

"Good. Glad to hear he's okay," said Harry. Just then, Matt stepped into the room, immediately followed by Bill, both of them wearing wicked grins on their faces.

"Last thing I need to see this morning… a grinning Weasley. Usually doesn't fare well for someone," Moody muttered.

"You've got me mixed up with my twin brothers, Mad Eye," said Bill, plopping into a seat to Harry's left. Matt took the one on his right.

"You don't fool me for a second, Weasley," Moody scowled, "Heard more than a few stories about the mischief you got up to as a student."

"Ah, but the better question to ask is, how many of those stories are fiction?" Bill retorted, playfully, as he too loaded his plate. Moody scowled again, and brandished a butter knife, pointing it toward the trio, declaring, "The three of you will be the death of me."

"Please don't point that at me, you don't know where it's been," Harry sniggered, at which the entire table burst into laughter.

"Hope we're not interrupting." Harry looked to the door, to see Norm there, along with Jake, secured in his wheelchair. The guy was again sporting a few days' growth.

"No, of course not. Come have breakfast."

"Don't have a lot of time—" Jake began, but Harry shook his head, answering, "Come on, come eat. If Neytiri's looking for you, she'll ask in the headset, remember?"

"Sure… all right," Jake conceded. Harry gestured with a hand, banishing the chair to Matt's right. Jake manoeuvred his chair to the spot, with Norm taking the next one. "Guys… this is Norm Spellman, and Jake Sully. New friends from Pandora."

"What exactly do you plan on doing in this new world of yours anyway, Mr. Potter?" questioned the witch from earlier.

"Continue to honour my promise. Simple as that. For the next few days, my business there takes priority, unless something spectacular happens here. As it stands, Voldemort is keeping quiet, and so all the better. Although if people are looking for something to do, help me catch his snake. That's all that stops me from really facing him."

"We're looking into that, Potter," spoke Moody, "Severus says the snake is well protected."

"Great. Likely end up having to kill it just before we take on Voldemort himself. Makes it much more risky."

"If there's anything I can do," Jake offered, but Harry only shook his head. "No, as much as I appreciate that, the monster I face here… he'd destroy you guys for fun. Quaritch and RDA were a cake-walk for me… they came at us with Muggle technology. I came at them with magic. With our combined efforts, there was no chance. With Voldemort, it'll be different."

"But why would it be different?" Jake challenged, "Why not come at him with Muggle technology along with your magic?"

"Most unorthodox suggestion, Mr. Sully," said the middle-aged witch, "As to how effective it might be…"

"At a minimum, it would piss him off, as Matt found out," said Harry.

"And at best, we could take a healthy bite out of his forces, Harry. There's no reason why we couldn't try it," said Bill, ideas already forming in his mind, "We should speak with Jiro and Zack, they seemed to live in the Muggle world, right?"

"Yeah, of course," said Harry, although there wasn't a lot of enthusiasm behind it. He still carried a lot of doubts, having seen what the Dark Lord was truly capable of.

"Look, Harry… You don't realize just what kind of impact you've had with the Omaticaya. They would follow you into battle, should you ask them to."

"No. I would never do that," Harry rebutted, "This is not your fight."

"Like our fight wasn't yours? Harry, stop being a hypocrite!"

* * *

For Harry's clone, it had been rather strange, sleeping at Hell's Gate. He had once again used Jake's quarters—at his suggestion this time. It was a lonely night without Matt and Bill, but he was needed here, not back in the trunk.

Now, he found himself travelling back to the large aircraft hangar, where all the soldiers were being held under guard. They were the largest security risk at this point, and it had been decided they would be kept there, rather than be allowed to retreat to quarters.

Arriving at said hangar, he gave a nod to the two Na'vi watching the door, and started scanning the gathered prisoners. Many of them were awake, but some were sleeping, including his first target. He thrust a hand out, and hauled him off the floor magically, jarring him awake. He let go as the guy came within feet of him. "Lyle Wainfleet. You're under arrest," he hissed.

"Wha… what for?" questioned the man, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head.

"Murder of a magical person or being, multiple counts. Murdering innocent school children? You didn't think I'd find out about that? You can join Quaritch and Selfridge."

"Hey genius, THEY shot at us!" Wainfleet accused, "THEY destroyed RDA property!"

"That you had no business bringing here in the first place. You retaliated by murdering children." Harry produced his wand, and thrust it at Wainfleet. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Four more soldiers joined Wainfleet on the floor by the hangar door, having been in the particular patrol responsible for the ghastly attack. Harry had meant to ask Grace about what had happened to the school. Now, he knew all too well, getting a first-hand view from Wainfleet. A young girl in war paint was shot first, right in the doorway of the building. Two others, painted the same way, fell swiftly after. Grace had acted quickly to clear the room before any others were shot, before she herself received a rather painful wound.

"I wonder if Neytiri remembers you," said Harry, coldly, "You murdered her sister. Maybe I should let the Omaticaya determine your fate. I'm sure their methods are much more effective than mine might ever be." Although brief, Harry caught a look of fear cross the trooper's eyes. That sealed the man's fate. Just perhaps, that would be the best course of action for all of them. Just let Jake and Neytiri decide their fates—it was within Harry's right as a representative. Administering justice himself was most certainly permitted. However, to allow the locals to deal with the crimes, it would only further improve their relationship.

The rest of the compound was already buzzing with activity, with men and women collecting belongings and materials to be loaded onto the shuttle. The activities were being closely monitored by Max and the avatar team. More than a dozen individuals had already been detained because of suspicious activities. They would be boarded last, it was decided.

Mid-morning, Jake, Neytiri, Norm, Harry's 'master', and Matt returned to Hell's Gate. Norm brought with him a list of roughly fifty names to be interviewed and invited to remain behind. It was a lot of names, but Harry wouldn't need long to determine someone's intentions. Jake and Neytiri both expressed discomfort with the idea, but Norm continued to placate them, reasoning that the individuals he had named would not cause problems if they remained on Pandora. Harry, of course, made it very clear as to exactly what would happen if someone was to cause problems. That resulted in a few names being crossed off.

* * *

Once Harry finished supper with his friends, old and new, he returned to the trunk, then knelt in front of the fireplace. He tossed in a pinch of floo powder, calling out, "Fire call Hogwarts Headmaster's office!", and stuck his head in the now green flames.

As luck would have it, Dumbledore was having company of the worst sort, the Minister of Magic. It was a good thing Harry tended to apply his younger appearance before making any floo calls. A slip-up like that could have been disastrous.

"Harry my boy," said Dumbledore, "I would invite you through, but as you see I do have company at the moment. Is it something that can't wait?"

"No, it's fine, I'll floo later," answered Harry.

"Mr. Potter, as a matter of fact—"

"Without due respect minister, you can kiss my arse," said Harry, with a sneer, then pulled his head back out of the fire, missing the minister's shocked expression at the blatant show of disrespect on the part of the Boy-who-lived. Harry got up, a wicked smirk on his face.

"What happened?" questioned James, from his portrait.

"I all but gave Fudge the finger," Harry smirked. That got an equal smirk from his father. "I'll still need to speak with Dumbledore, if he comes in let him know. I have to get back to Pandora."

Stepping into the third trunk, he found his relatives outside the door to their apartment.

"Harry," said Dudley, his voice and demeanour showing no malice, "Thank you… thank you for looking out for us."

"It was the right thing to do," answered Harry, "Not doing anything… leaving you to your own devices… that would have been as bad as Voldemort."

"How did you… you move our house in here?"

"Magic. I know you may not like it or understand it, but… I did want to make things as comfortable as I could for you."

"Th-thank you, b… Harry," Vernon managed. Harry could still see he was struggling with the entire concept of what had happened. It was written on all their faces.

"We may not have got along, but… you did keep me safe. Remember what I said at the beginning of the summer? I wasn't just talking a load of codswallop. I knew eventually Voldemort would come after you, so your house was watched. I don't need to explain what might have happened had it not been."

"What happens to us, then?" questioned Dudley, "My school…"

"We'll get that sorted shortly. Just for now, don't worry about anything, you'll be looked after."

"And we'll have to put up with your lot, then," said Vernon, with disdain.

"Vernon!" Petunia chided, "We could have been murdered in our beds!"

"Yes, because of his lot in the first place!" Vernon huffed.

"And like I said, I will deal with him. I promise you all this much. Once this is all over and done with, if you want, I can modify your memories and make you forget all about me and my world."

"You can really do that?" questioned Dudley.

"Yeah, I can. Although I might have someone from the ministry do it, someone who specializes in that sort of thing."

"Will we be able to return to Privet Drive?" questioned Petunia.

"Hopefully. I didn't know you were attacked until the next morning, so I don't know what state the house is in. but if you can't, I'll help you relocate… since it's 'my lot' who caused the problem in the first place. Anyway, I have to… well, I need to be somewhere. But honestly, if there's anything I can do to make things more comfortable, let me know." He didn't wait for an answer, but left for the air lock leading back to Pandora. The group would be spending the night there again—the previous night had been an exception.

Sometime before dawn, Harry was pulled out of his sleep by someone gently shaking him. "Harry?" He sat up suddenly, jarring Bill awake, as the pair were rather tangled with each other. Matt woke only a second later.

"What's wrong?" questioned Harry, readjusting his bearings, shaking the sleep from his head.

"Professor Snape just floo'ed into the trunk with Draco," said Remus.

"Shit. Grab onto me then." Bill, Matt, and Remus did so, and the four of them vanished with a rather noisy POP, to reappear in the entry hall of the container. "Where are they?" Harry was already dispelling the bubble-head charm, the others following suit.

"In the study," said Remus, "Severus was already floo'ing Madam Pomfrey."

"Did they explain what happened?"

"The boy's in bad shape, whoever did it worked him over pretty good."

"Fuck. We knew something would happen eventually, but… Bloody hell. Where's Dumbledore?"

"We're trying to reach him," said Sirius, who met them in the common room, "He went back to the Ministry with Fudge."

"What about Professor McGonagall?" Harry had barely got the words out of his mouth, when the fireplace roared to life, with the Professor in question stepping out of the flames. "Where is he?" she questioned briskly.

"This way, Professor," said Sirius. The entire group headed into the study, where the boy in question lay on the floor, his godfather doing what he could to stabilize the boy until Madam Pomfrey arrived.

"What happened, Severus?" questioned the Deputy Headmistress, her lips pursed so tight they might vanish from her severe face.

"I happened to hear a commotion in a disused classroom near the dormitories. When I stepped into the classroom, I found the Slytherin seventh year boys, along with two from the sixth year, giving Mr. Malfoy a working over, resulting in the condition he is now in."

"Where are the students responsible?" questioned Bill.

"Bound, in my office, their wands all confiscated."

"I will floo the Auror office at once," McGonagall decided, "The boy appears to have been beaten to within an inch of his life."

"Yeah, and you know what Dumbledore will say to that, Professor," said Harry. That got a sneer from the surly potions master.

"He'd actually let them stay, even after them doing this? Is the guy really that bent?" Matt questioned, shaking his head.

"The first time around, this sort of thing happened all the time. He kept giving people second chances," said Harry, "There has to be a line in the sand, and I agree with Professor McGonagall… the students who did this… what's to stop them from doing something far worse?"

"Exactly my sentiments, Mr. Potter," McGonagall agreed. The fireplace roared to life, and the resident healer at Hogwarts strode out of the fire, again bringing her medical kit. That was timed with the headmaster's arrival, as he stepped into the room.

"How severe was it?" he questioned, simply.

"The boy is alive, but that's all," said Snape, "Those responsible are bound in my office."

"I will summon the Aurors," said McGonagall, turning to the fire.

"Is that truly necessary, Minerva?" questioned Dumbledore, sadly.

"With all due respect, sir, if they did this, what's to stop them from doing other, more despicable things? Malfoy was almost killed tonight. You promised the school would be safer this year. Are you not going to back up that promise with action?" questioned Harry, gesturing at himself, and restoring his 'older' appearance. The headmaster sighed, realizing the man in front of him was right. To let the perpetrators off with a simple punishment and a 'don't do that again' just wouldn't do.

"Severus is right, headmaster. Mr. Malfoy will do well if he lives," Madam Pomfrey announced.

"That's attempted Murder, headmaster," said Bill, "This can't just be let go."

"Yes, very well, Minerva. Severus, if you would collect those responsible, we'll reconvene in my office," the headmaster agreed.

"Professor, sometimes people run out of second chances," Harry reminded, while McGonagall activated the floo and vanished into the flames.

"Severus, you can do nothing further. Go with the headmaster and deal with those responsible," said Madam Pomfrey, "It will also be best he be taken back to the hospital wing, where my supplies are readily at hand. You should also know, we may need to transport him to St. Mungo's. The boy is in very serious condition."

"Do what you must, Poppy," said Dumbledore. Snape only nodded curtly, and stood up, saying, "I will at least help you move him to the hospital wing."

"Harry, he won't be able to stay in the Slytherin dorms," said Bill, "If that's what they did to him…"

"I know. As much as he'll hate it, he's gonna have to stay here with us at night." They watched, as Snape assisted Madam Pomfrey in guiding the unconscious and seriously injured boy into the floo. "You know… if anything, I kind of expected that sooner."

"We won't need to make any sort of decision right this minute," said Remus, "Mr. Malfoy will likely be in the infirmary for a while, more than a few days."

"If he lives," said Harry, darkly. He looked up at the clock at one side of the fireplace mantle. 4:13a. 'This is gonna be a long day,' he thought.

"Harry, you really don't need to be at the Tree of Souls. Why not deal with things here for the next day or so, let your clone keep an eye on Hell's Gate?" Bill suggested.

"Sounds fair. And I can at least make an appearance in the school."

"Later," said Matt, "Let's just try and get a bit of rest." He gave Harry a poke in the ribs, an unspoken message he got loud and clear. There was nothing further he could do at this point.

* * *

Two days later, the group once again gathered on the tarmac at Hell's Gate, as the last of those being evicted from Pandora boarded the remaining shuttle. The entire complex had been searched several times, ensuring no one remained who might cause issues down the road. Of course there were a few, but they were to be dealt with differently, and only once the shuttle left for the final time.

Those who had been invited to stay had already been keyed into the wards, and several spells cast on them to ensure they wouldn't be evicted when the wards were brought up to full power.

Finally, only two individuals remained behind, as the last group of people hustled up the ramp. The morning had arrived overcast, but had gotten progressively clearer as the operation progressed, almost as if the Deity herself were showing growing appreciation of what Harry had done.

"You will deliver this to whoever is responsible for the expedition here," said Harry, holding out a rolled scroll of parchment. The man, a commander with SecOps, made no attempt to accept it.

"Accept it or what?" he sneered, "I ain't no messenger—"

"Care to rephrase?" questioned Jake, pointing the muzzle of his weapon at the commander's head.

"Eh—um… fine." The commander begrudgingly accepted the scroll.

"There won't be any further expeditions here to Pandora. No Earth-made vessel will ever land here again. Period. No human being will ever set foot here without authorization from the Na'vi people, myself or any person who may speak for me. It's laid out in the document you have in your hand."

"I will deliver this document as soon as we return to earth," answered the commander, almost in a hypnotic state, at least so it seemed to Jake.

"Good. You have thirty minutes to vacate Pandora's atmosphere. After that, there is no guarantee for your safety," Harry warned. The two men needed no further persuasion, but scampered up the ramp, which had already began to close.

"What did you do to him?" questioned Jake, as they watched them vanish inside.

"The scroll had a number of charms on it," answered Bill, "It reinforced what Harry told him. It'll also have the same effect once it's opened."

"What stops him from opening it on the shuttle, or destroying it?"

"The same charm, actually. It's like a series of charms actually. The first compelled him to do as Harry says. The second ensures he will actually deliver the document and not attempt to get rid of it, and a third will only let him pass it to someone he believes is in charge of this operation."

"Magic can really do all of that?"

"Well, that's some pretty advanced spell work. I probably could have done it, but that was all Bill's handy work," answered Harry, as the shuttle at last lifted off from the tarmac.

"What about them knowing about magic?"

"That's covered by the document as well," said Bill, with a smirk, "It's designed to summon and release a potion into the air once they're on board their space ship… their inter-stellar vessel?" That got a nod from Jake. "It's a potion form of a memory charm. Not quite as effective as the oblivator's office, but should suffice in this case."

"Remind me never to cross you again, Harry," said Jake, shaking his head. The group watched, as the shuttle climbed higher and higher into the sky, the scream of its engines becoming more faint the further away it flew.

"This will truly mean the end of the sky people?" Neytiri still sounded uncertain.

"Only a witch or a wizard could undo the charms I've sent along with them," answered Bill, reassuringly.

"We have much to thank you for… all of you for," said Neytiri, "You will return with us to the Tree of Souls tonight?"

"I can leave my clone here," said Harry.

"You don't need to," said Max, "We'll keep things in order here."

"If you need anything, you still have the radio," said Jake.

"We know."

"And I'll likely move my container here to the compound. It feels out of place, even if it is magically charmed as it is," Harry decided.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTE**__: Things are coming a little slow these days, as you may have noticed. A good number of things have taken precedence over my writing, and that may be the case for a while yet.  
_

15


	45. Dumbledore's Army Reformed

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted __October 17, 2010_

_WARNING: Coarse language._

* * *

**-CHAPTER XLIV-  
DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY REFORMED**

**Or, Harry gets back to business in his own world**

**

* * *

**

The following morning, Jake awoke to find the container had indeed been moved to Hell's Gate sometime during the night. He entered the dining room of the trunk to a rather lively discussion.

"Seriously, mate, the toad is teaching us nothing. You said you would set up the DA again," the youngest Weasley boy was saying.

"Harry, it's our O.W.L. year," the bushy-haired witch across from him pointed out.

"Guys! I know! We're just about done with the mess on Pandora. Then I can refocus on what's going on here. Just give me a day or so. Have you guys been asking around?" questioned Harry, between bites of his breakfast.

"Yeah, loads," said Ron, "Most of our year in Gryffindor, save for a few—well, Seamus and so on."

"Great. That's great. We'll use the Room of Requirement for our first meeting, so we can set up security. Then we can begin meeting in the Chamber of Secrets."

"The Umbridge woman again?" Jake guessed.

"Yeah," said Harry, "It's taking a lot of willpower for me to not seek her out and have a go at her, just for what she did to me in another lifetime."

"Another lifetime?"

"You haven't told him?" Hermione was surprised.

"No."

"Told me what?" questioned Jake. Harry again let out a sigh, then answered, "Gods, I really hate repeating myself. But someone seems to get a kick out of it."

"Harry, it's not his fault," said Matt.

"No, only the universe hates me." He turned to Jake, saying, "This can't be repeated… save for Neytiri, I know you share everything with her. But be sure she knows that too. In a nutshell, I'm living my life again… I was sent back in time eleven years…"

Jake thought he'd seen and heard just about everything. The boy sitting down the table from him was no boy, but a man terribly scarred by things he could only imagine. Jake had seen the worst of non-magical, or Muggle warfare. The boy had seen friends and lovers tortured and murdered before his eyes, seen entire families murdered, the countryside ravaged by magical monsters, had himself been horribly wounded, tortured—and yet, this person carried far more compassion and understanding than many average people. Whoever Harry Potter truly was, Jake had only just scratched the surface as far as the depth of his character.

"Harry. A lesser man would have off'ed himself long before," said Jake, simply.

"Trust me, the thought has come to me. But I couldn't do that, not be that selfish," answered the boy-become-man.

"Not to mention I'd find a way to bring you back so I could kill you myself," said Bill, without amusement.

"Like I said, that won't happen. I have a life to live. Now whether I fulfil the great plan the universe here has for me, I don't know. But I do have a life to live, people to look after. That can't happen if I'm gone."

"Magic one, over," came Max's voice over the radio.

"Copy," said Harry, pressing the button on his throat piece.

"A couple of guys found something you need to see."

"We'll be there in a few minutes, where are you?"

"Meet us in the armoury."

"Copy."

Ten minutes later the group stood around a medium-sized crate which had been pulled from one of several large vaults by a scientist using an AMP suit. It had been the only way to move it. Even from a distance, Harry could feel the strong magical pull from it. He gestured at it, banishing the cover, and let out a sigh. "Should have known."

Inside the crate, was yet another cylinder, exactly like the one he had first encountered when he had met Matt.

"What is it?" questioned Max, staring blankly at the object.

"Better question, how did SecOps or RDA even HANDLE this in the first place?" questioned Bill.

"Don't know," said Harry, "But we've encountered something like this in every universe I've landed so far. This one's got a little more power to it compared with the others."

"Probably from being in a magically saturated environment, Harry," Bill commented, to which Harry gave a nod.

"We were taking inventory when we found this. It was making some of our equipment malfunction, and first thing we thought, was to contact you guys," said the scientist, still in the AMP suit.

"Good thinking. Yeah, if you find anything…"

"Weird, call us," Bill finished.

* * *

That evening, the clan was once again gathered around the Tree of Souls, as Jake passed through the eye of Eywa, and transferred his consciousness permanently to his avatar. This time, Harry actively contributed to the ceremony, pushing a well of his own magic into the very tendrils of the gnarled tree.

Unlike with Dr. Augustine, however, the ritual was a resounding success, as Jake sucked in a deep breath of Pandoran air, his eyes blinking open, searching for the one thing that meant the most to him.

"My Jake?" questioned Neytiri, still concerned.

"It's fine. I'm fine," Jake answered, a broad smile forming. The pair embraced tightly.

"Ole'eyctan," said Harry, with a slight bow of the head.

"Ole'eyctan," the assembled mass repeated, with their own show of respect for the named leader. Harry was still focused on Jake and Neytiri, however, as her body language said it all: relief. Both of them knew the ritual was a risky one, one that could have been more than costly-something Harry knew all too well.

"Harry." Harry turned to face Mo'at. "There is much we thank you for."

"It was the right thing to do," answered Harry, simply.

"You miss a third mate."

"I... yeah... he was hurt, badly. I... we don't know... I don't know if there's anything here... that might help."

"We can try a few things," Neytiri offered.

"How did he come to be injured?" inquired Mo'at.

That resulted in yet another lengthy discussion beneath the gnarled ancient tree, this time as Harry once again related some of his history, and the horrors he had suffered through. He finished by telling of Voldemort's rebirth earlier that summer, and the reason Cedric still lay petrified in his parents rooms within his trunk.

Mo'at waited for Harry to finish, then simply wrapped her braid around one of the glowing tendrils hanging from the tree. Neytiri, however, called over several others, passing swift instructions in the native tongue.

"Neytiri is sending for ingredients," Jake clarified, seeing Harry's confused look.

"Should I bring Cedric here?" he asked.

"Not yet," answered Neytiri, "We may be able to help, but no promises."

"The best I can hope for, I guess," said Harry, "Better than no hope at all." He knew better than to put all his faith in a vision, no matter WHERE it came from. That last time he'd believed such a vision, it had been disastrous.

"It will take some time, Harry, but there is strong chance we can help him," Mo'at reassured, as she at last disconnected her queue from the tree.

"That's a lot more than I started with," said Harry.

"How long?" Questioned Bill.

"Four or five days," answered Neytiri, "Give us at least that much."

"No, no rush," said Harry, "Take as long as you need-Better chances of it working if we go slowly, right?"

"That is very true."

"It might be time for us to attend to things back in our own world anyway," Bill reminded, "You're already in for a nightmare as it is trying to catch up, Harry."

"Thanks for the reminder," said Harry, making a sour face at the thought.

They remained with the clan once again that night as they celebrated their leader's 'birth', and only as the alien sun began to cast its rays on the upper rim of the caldera did they return to the trunk. As much as he would have liked to stay with his new friends a little longer, Bill was right. Harry had missed over a week of classes, never mind the fact Ron and Hermione had been covertly recruiting for the 'study group'. Maybe he could get that rolling on the coming Sunday.

After getting a little more sleep, the trio caught an early lunch, where they were met by Sirius and Remus.

"We created a room in the container for a greenhouse," said Remus, "Severus had a few suggestions on its configuration." Harry arched an eyebrow. The Marauders taking advice from Snape? He let out a chuckle.

"What?"

"Well, just thinking, you know, the pair of you taking advice from your school nemesis and all, right?"

"You did ask us to be nice to him, kiddo," answered Sirius, "Although, if you want-"

"No, no that's great. It's great, good you're getting along with him. Right. Thanks for getting that going all the same. I'm sure Neville will want to help out there as well-I'll have a chat with him later if I get the chance. What day are we today?"

"Monday," said Remus.

"Tempus," Harry intoned. "11:56" wafted from the tip of his index finger. "A free day then."

"Harry, you can't just keep skipping Umbridge's classes," said Remus.

"Rather that, than I blow her up spectacularly one day when she at last pushes me too far," answered Harry, a scowl forming, "Personally, I'd like to introduce her to some devil's snare... or Fluffy."

"Who's Fluffy?" inquired Matt.

"Remember the three-headed dog I told you about?" 'O', Matt mouthed, as realization sunk in. He thought for a moment, then said, "I'm gonna spend some time with the guys, then."

"As you should be," said Harry, "I didn't mean for you to be pulled away from your friends." Matt made to retort, but did not, as he realized Harry was right. The past few weeks he'd spent very little time with his band mates. Sure, all the magic was really cool, but he was still first and foremost a musician. He stood up, planted a kiss on Harry's forehead, and left the room.

The greenhouse was enormous. He'd not set down any boundaries as far as the size was concerned, so the space easily matched that of one of the Hogwarts greenhouses. Already, a number of plants had been planted, likely by Snape, Harry guessed. A quarter of the room had been sectioned off, and the warning sign beside the partition told him all he needed to know: it was configured to behave like Pandora. The thing was, knowing the size of most plants from the magical moon, the space would fill up quickly. 'Of course,' he thought, 'We can always make it bigger.'

* * *

It was like Deja-vu. The evening of September 17 found a hefty group of students gathered in the Room of Requirement, which had, exactly as it had eleven years prior, configured itself to be the perfect classroom in the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" questioned Dean, off to the side of the room, pointing out the Sneakoscopes and Foe-Glass.

"Dark detectors," answered Harry, automatically, but then quickly added, "Unreliable, they can be fooled quite easily." He projected a message to the room, and the objects vanished.

"Why'd you do that for?" questioned Ron, getting a swat from Hermione. "Er… right."

"I know Ron and Hermione have been working hard recruiting you guys, and just, wow, thanks for coming, all of you."

"And if you know of others who might be interested, feel free to approach them," Hermione threw in, and then, "I think though, before we continue, we ought to elect a leader."

"Harry's leader," said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as if she were mad. Harry almost grinned at the carbon copy of events as they unfolded.

"Yes but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione pushed on, "It makes it formal and gives him authority. So-everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

The result was identical to the first time around, with a unanimous decision.

"Great, thanks," said Harry, much more appreciative of the outcome this time around, now carrying eleven years' worth of hard experience.

"What will we be called, then?" Matt put forward, remembering what Harry had told him about the group.

"Can we be the Anti-Ambridge League?" said Angelina hopefully. The twins had warned Harry she was still quite sore with him about his Quidditch suspension, but was all in favour of the extra lessons just the same. Speaking of the twins… "The Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" Fred threw out. That got smirks and snickers from a few.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, casting a frown at Fred, "More of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defence Association," offered Cho, "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Sounds good, I like it," said Matt, nodding.

"Yeah, the DA's good," said Ginny, "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

"She's right," Harry agreed, "Voldemort-" he waited for everyone to get over the cringing at the use of the Dark Lord's name, "-is only part of the problem. There will come a time when the ministry itself will have to get sorted, sooner rather than later. It will be up to us to make changes, or we will be facing the same problem we have now in a generation or so." Murmurs went through the group, but along with it was a good number of nodding heads.

"All in favour of the DA?" questioned Matt, garnering a frown from Hermione. The result, however, was the same, with a majority voting in favour of the name. Hermione stood up and pinned the piece of parchment with their names on it to the wall, and wrote across the top in large letters:

"DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY"

"Now that business is out of the way, we can discuss our next piece of business," Harry began.

"As great as this place is," Hermione picked up, "Harry has a much more secure location picked out for us to continue with, where there is much less of a risk of us being caught." She reached into her book bag, and pulled out a group of small pendants. "Each of you will get one of these."

"They're permanent port keys designed to take you to our meeting place and back-" Harry began.

"But… you can't make port keys in Hogwarts!" protested Michael Corner.

"How did you make port keys in the first place, they're heavily regulated by the ministry," Zacharias Smith added. More murmurs from the group.

"Guys!" Harry raised his voice, "Look, it's just one more thing that… I don't know, but they work."

"Is it safe then?" Corner persisted, "Those rumours in the Prophet-"

"Finish that sentence, and I'll hex you into next week and back," Matt hissed, "And you can show yourself out."

"Matt…" said Harry, then, "Look, guys… I'll explain shortly, just hold off the questions."

"Maybe the castle likes him," Luna offered, "It sometimes makes exceptions. Or maybe it's the nargles." Harry didn't need to look up to know eyes were rolling.

"So where will we be studying, then?" Zacharias queried.

"I can't tell you that. Just trust me in saying, it's still on the school grounds, and it's perfectly safe."

"It's so you can't ever spill the secret, if you're ever questioned about it," Hermione offered, seeing a number of people shifting on their cushions, uncomfortable with the suggestion.

"It makes perfect sense," Ginny added, "We know how Umbridge is behaving these days."

"Another vote, then," suggested Matt, "All in favour of the more secluded location?"

About fifteen minutes later, the group was gathered in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry, with help from a few others, had dispatched the remains of the basilisk, and further cleaned up the space over the past few days. Much like the Room of Requirement had provided, there were loads of appropriate materials to help the group, as well as a raised duelling platform.

In front of the massive bust of Salazar Slytherin and the pond, there was a large circle of red cushions. The group quickly grabbed seats, with Harry remaining on his feet. "Now that you have all seen where we will be meeting from here on out, to leave here when we're done, it's as simple as holding the pendant, and thinking, 'Return'. They will return you to your dormitories, more specifically to your bedside."

"Won't people see us?" questioned a fourth-year Hufflepuff.

"No," Hermione answered, "The pendants have some very strong enchantments on them that will ensure you arrive without being seen."

"Professor Dumbledore helped us out with these. That's why the port keys work here," said Harry.

"So he knows about us meeting, then?" questioned Michael.

"He does. He unofficially supports what we're doing here, if any of you are wondering."

"But if he knows, doesn't he know what Professor Umbridge is doing?" questioned another fourth-year.

"I'm sure he's fully aware of what that woman's doing," said Harry, "But it's the ministry we're all dealing with here. His hands are really tied."

"Don't attend her classes!" George threw out, "Harry doesn't." That got a swat from Hermione.

"Nor her detentions," Fred piped up.

"The headmaster won't ever sanction that kind of thing, but really, guys, avoiding her is the best thing to do," Harry advised, "That includes skiving off her classes and detentions."

"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized.

"What, it's true," Matt added, "I'd rather not have my hand gouged up, thank you very much."

"Hand gouged up? By what?" questioned Terry Boot.

"A blood quill," answered Lee Jordan, hiding his hand automatically.

"A blood… that's a dark artefact," Susan Bones stammered, "I'll have a letter to write later…"

"Susan, no," Harry spoke up, knowing exactly what Susan had in mind, "The only thing that'll happen is your aunt will end up sacked!"

"But Harry, it's wrong and cruel!"

"We know it is, but Fudge still has far too much power for us to have any hope of getting justice… at least of the fair kind. Believe me, that pink-cardigan-wearing toad will learn the meaning of justice, one way or another." He glanced at one of the mechanical targets off to the side, then made a motion with his wand, transfiguring it into a close facsimile of the woman in question. "REDUCTO!" He roared, sending a blast of angry magic at it, and shattering the effigy into a million pieces. "Merlin, that felt good."

As with the first time, he set the group off working on the disarming charm, and the time flew. The reason behind the group was dark and foreboding, but in the thick of it, it was as if he were born to lead, to teach.

"A, Harry… the time," Matt warned.

"Tempus," Harry intoned, making sure to use his wand. "10:08 p" wafted from its tip.

"Right. Sonorus," he whispered, holding the wand to his throat, "Okay, everyone, your attention." Everyone stopped their practice, and all eyes fell again on Harry. Cancelling the charm, he continued, "All right, great. When d'you all want to meet again? Same time next week?"

"Sooner," Dean Thomas threw out, with others quickly agreeing. Angelina, however, quickly reminded, "Quidditch season is about to start, we need team practices too!"

"No, it'll be fine on Sundays," said Hermione, "Quidditch games are on Saturdays as it is."

"Agreed, then. But in case we do meet earlier than that, keep your pendants with you. They will glow warm, with the date and time of the next meeting appearing on them."

"I should also remind you," Hermione cut in, "The pendants are to be kept secret, and not shared with anyone."

"If others wish to join the DA, have them speak to either myself, Matt, Hermione, or Ron," Harry continued, "Now, I think it's best we say good night, and be back to our dormitories."

Moments later, with whisperings of "Return", groups of people began to pop away, spirited off by the return port key. Some went instantly, while others had to wait a moment or two. A few actually had to wait nearly a minute.

"Harry, mine's not…" Neville began, then suddenly popped away.

"The castle's working pretty quickly, all in all," said Harry, as the group was down to only a few more members.

"Good meeting either way," Matt commented, as the last of them popped away, "You looked like you were in your element, Harry."

"Thanks. It was fun. But to do that professionally, like become a professor here? I don't know. I did want to become an Auror at one time… McGonagall had given me career advice, even though I wasn't supposed to be in the castle the first time around."

"But Harry, would you be really happy, chasing after dark wizards? You've been doing that for eleven years of your life already, mate," Matt pointed out.

"He's got ya there, mate," Ron agreed, earning him a swat from Hermione for his effort.

"I know… and it's exactly my thoughts too. I'm sure… I mean, I would probably make a good Auror, but… I'm tired. Guys, I just want to have a bit of peace and quiet. A chance to spend time with my friends and my partners. Not be chasing after Voldemort and the next dark wizard to replace him. Let's get back up to the trunk."

Arriving in the trunk's common room, they heard voices drifting in from the study, as well as music coming from the studio.

"Harry… you mind if I split? Sounds like the guys are jamming," said Matt.

"Yeah, go have fun. I might come and listen in later." Their lips met momentarily, and Matt headed off into the studio, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped into the study.

It looked like a full Order meeting was ongoing, and all conversation stopped as the trio were spotted.

"Order meeting?" questioned Harry.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is," answered Dumbledore from the head of the table.

"Sorry guys… I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"'Night, mate," said Ron, "The meeting was excellent."

"Thanks."

"Good night, Harry," said Hermione, and the pair of them quickly left. Harry gestured at himself, restoring his older appearance, then took a seat at the table. "Do I dare ask what's happened?"

"At about 8:15, a trans-Atlantic flight out of Heathrow crashed on takeoff," explained Zack, gesturing to his laptop computer.

"The Ministry is investigating, as there were reports of 'green lights' being shot at the aircraft as it left the runway," Shacklebolt added.

"Voldemort crashed a plane," Harry summed up.

"We believe so," said Shacklebolt, "The Aurors are investigating, and the office of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes has also been dispatched, just in case."

"But why? What would he gain, destroying a plane load of Muggles?"

"A scare tactic," said Zack, with a shrug, "A lot of people fear flying."

"No, I don't believe it's that simple," said Dumbledore, folding his hands in a steeple in front of him, "Tom's motives are never simple."

"No, they aren't," Harry agreed, "Find out who was on that flight. I bet there was someone important aboard… someone connected to both our world and the Muggle world."

"Why would he bother with the theatrics, though?" Jiro scoffed, "If he wanted someone dead, Gods, he can just cast the killing curse and be done with it."

"Ah, Mr. Kane, you're forgetting, Tom likes the theatrics," Dumbledore reminded.

"It's all about the theatrics," Harry threw in, "Just like with what happened my 'first time around', in the grave yard. Rather than killing me while I was still tied to the tombstone-in his shoes that's what I would have done-he untied me, and challenged me to a duel. He wants that 'shock and awe' image, and so doing this is… well… it doesn't surprise me. …Of course, it could be just another rogue wizard or witch with their own axe to grind against someone."

"I don't know which is a scarier picture… Voldemort and his Death Eaters, or someone else acting like a loose cannon," Zack muttered. There were murmurs of agreement from around the table.

"My suggestion, like I said, find out who was on that flight. That might give us a clue. But we all agree the crash was caused by a witch or wizard."

"The Ministry wouldn't have bothered sending out obliviators if they believed otherwise," said Tonks.

"Harry… you seem to be taking this news rather well," said Sirius.

"Eleven years ago, had you asked me that, well, no, I wouldn't have been… but this… this is nothing new to me. I can't stop him from doing these things… I'm only one person, right?"

"If you ever need to talk to someone, you know I will always be there for you, kiddo."

"That means a lot to me, even though I already knew that. Just remember, I've been through eleven years of horrors, so really, this shit just doesn't surprise me anymore. I don't think anything Voldemort can do will surprise me at this point. Excuse me." He stood up, and left the room, shoulders slumped. Sirius stood to follow, but Remus gripped his arm, shaking his head. "His mates will look after him."

"I just feel… I've let him down," said Sirius, slumping back into his seat.

"We all have, in one way or another, Sirius. But we can't also force our way into his world, that will only serve to force him away," said Lily, from her portrait.

"Now Lily, you can't blame yourself for not being here for your son," Mr. Weasley scolded, "We all know who's to blame for that."

"That we do, Arthur, that we do," Dumbledore agreed, "Now I do believe it's best we close the meeting. I would suggest we follow Harry's advice. Kingsley, Nymphadora, I leave that up to you, if you would."

"Of course, Headmaster," Shacklebolt agreed, while Tonks gave Dumbledore the coldest look of loathing she could muster, only to earn that blasted twinkling of the eyes he was so good at.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTES**__: As has been mentioned before, things have been coming rather slowly for me ant this work, with a lot of distractions happening around me that includes another move, the fourth in three years. Things are settling down a bit, and I might get back into writing more often again, at least I hope._

_A large chunk of this chapter has been borrowed from Chapter 18 of OotP, with a few alterations to suit._

_Up next… Professor Umbridge has an encounter with Pandoran intoxicants… weeee, let the fun begin! And, Harry has another encounter with Eywa, as an attempt is made to heal Cedric…_


	46. Temporarily Neutralized

_Thanks __for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or__ favourite__ list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted October 19, 2010._

_Caution: Violence__, coarse language, alcohol use._

_

* * *

_

**-CHAPTER XLV-  
TEMPORARILY NEUTRALIZED**

**Or, what to do with a drunken… professor?**

**

* * *

**"Monday…" Harry muttered, as the sleep left him. Only Matt lay beside him, still passed out, snoring softly. He gave him a gentle poke. "Time to get up."

"That time already?" Matt muttered, his eyes slowly opening.

"History of Magic and Potions this morning… really don't want a detention from Snape, remember his threat on Thursday," Harry reminded.

"Right, almost forgot."

"We'll be attending DADA today as well."

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"For today, yeah," Harry smirked.

"Okay, spill. What are you up to?" questioned Matt, although he too, smirked. Harry returned the gesture as he stood, and pressed a finger to his throat, activating the radio set he still wore. "Jake or Tsu'tey?"

"My brother," came Tsu'tey's voice.

"I was wondering if I might have a little bit of your, um, drink you guys have at the fire some nights," said Harry. Matt arched an eyebrow, knowing EXACTLY what Harry was up to.

"It would be honour to share some of it," answered Tsu'tey.

"Harry, what are you up to?" came Norm's voice, "Your classes can't be that bad."

"No, and they won't be today… at least one of my classes." The others could hear the mischief in his voice, resulting in a few chuckles.

"It's called Kava," came Jake's voice, "Careful who you give it to, won't you?"

"I'll make sure not to do anything 'too' permanent."

Once they had breakfast, Harry produced his clone. "Visit Hometree and gather some Kava. Have Dobby, Winky, or Kreacher visit Umbridge with the 'offering'. And see about the prisoners at Hell's Gate-Wainfleet and his cohorts, specifically. Pass them over to Jake and Neytiri, let them carry out justice."

"Will do," said the clone. He vanished with a slight POP.

"If this works as I hope it will, Dark Arts Defence should be, um, interesting."

"You're giving a teacher alcohol." Sirius deadpanned, still seated at the table. His eyes, however, betrayed his amusement.

"Prongs, Prongs Junior has just upstaged us by a mile," Remus piped up, shaking his head. The _Daily Prophet_ was laid out flat in front of him, with another enormous picture of the Minister of Magic smiling and waving from the front page.

"Mr. Prongs concedes defeat on the part of Mr. Prongs, Jr.," James threw in, wiping away a fake tear in his portrait, earning him a poke in the ribs from Lily.

"Mr. Padfoot concurs with Mr. Prongs' observation."

"Okay, very funny guys," Harry said, with little heat.

"So you mean to tell me, the Marauders never attempted giving the teachers alcohol?" questioned Matt.

"No, not during class time," answered Remus, "It occurred to us, but we never went through with it. Oh sure, we spiked the pumpkin juice more times than we could count, but against the teachers?"

"Ah, but you didn't have the house elves to help," Harry smirked.

"You will share a pensieve memory of the escapade later, prongslet," said James.

"Count on it, dad. If I can't get rid of the woman, I'll make an absolute fool of her."

"Now of course, if we could only feed her some Veritaserum… might make for a REAL interesting conversation," Matt smirked.

"Yeah, and knowing my luck, it wouldn't be in front of people who matter… right, best be going, history of magic is up first."

* * *

Harry once again found himself in front of one of the detention cells at Hell's Gate, having already been to the Tree of Souls and making sure what he was about to do was okay. Jake knew what Wainfleet had done, after all, it was one of the things Neytiri had shared with him when they had first mated. He readily agreed. Neytiri, on the other hand, hissed a displeasure from the name being mentioned. It took nearly a minute of rapid discussion between the pair, before she approved the idea. Her body language, however, didn't fool him for a moment. She looked forward to extracting a bit of punishment on the fool who took her sister from her.

One of the scientists was keeping an eye on things from a station just down the hall, but had a radio handy just in case. Harry stepped up to the glass. "Lyle Wainfleet," he said, simply.

"What do you want?" questioned the man.

"Time to answer for your crimes." Harry thrust his wand toward the man, hissing, "Stupefy!" Wainfleet collapsed in a heap, as blackness overtook him. Harry opened the cell with the hacked security key, grabbed the man by the belt, and Disapparated with a noisy CRACK.

When the former SecOps corporal regained consciousness, he found he couldn't move. He was trussed up on some sort of framework, facing what seemed like hundreds of angry Na'vi. A quick glance to his left and right confirmed he was not alone in this predicament, as several others were also tied to the framework. He realized this was exactly as the Na'vi had done to Dr. Augustine over a week prior.

"My friends…" Wainfleet looked to his left, to see the little wand-waving bastard. The traitor was there too. "My friends, I understand all too well… the meaning of betrayal, the decimation of trust…" Someone was translating for him, and murmurs travelled through the gathering, some of them looking toward the prisoners much like a butcher might size up a side of beef. "The powers vested in me give me the authority to deal with law-breaking. However, I felt it more appropriate that _The People_ deal out justice on their own. The prisoners before you have committed acts… have stolen something so precious, no amount of vengeance could ever replace it." He paused, allowing his translator to catch up. "At the same time, I believe the Omaticaya have a right to some sort of closure to a horrible, painful event in your past. I therefore turn over these five humans, to your care, to do as you see fit, so mote it be." He turned, gave a bow to the traitor and his 'piece of tail'.

"Brothers, sisters. And to my honorary brother, you impress us yet again, by this token," said Jake. He turned to Tsu'tey, who was being supported by a young male, as his foot was still in no shape to stand on. "Brother, I look to your council."

"Sylwanin would have liked you, Harry," answered Tsu'tey, then, in an icy voice, "They dealt out death, plundered our lands, destroyed all we held sacred. They forfeit their weak and pitiful existence, let Eywa judge their spirits!"

"So it is said, so mote it be," said Harry, turning back to face Wainfleet, "Anything you wish to say before they carry out sentence?"

"We will be back," answered Wainfleet, defiantly, "RDA won't just give up 'cause of a bunch of blue monkeys and a punk with parlour tricks up his sleeve. And you specifically, you little punk… fuck you." He leaned back and attempted to spit on Harry, but found he couldn't open his mouth to do so.

"Parlour tricks? I think not," Harry smirked, "I've taken steps to ensure your kind will NEVER set foot on Pandora again. And trust me, had you actually been able to spit on me, you wouldn't have liked the payback. Just for the effort, however…" he smirked again, and hissed something unintelligible, jabbing sharply at the condemned man with his wand.

Wainfleet could suddenly open his mouth again, and it was a good thing, as a large, wet, slimy slug squished out of his mouth and down the front of him.(1)

"What… what… what have you…" he tried to ask, horrified, as yet another of the foul things slid out of his mouth.

"My best friend tried to use that one on an enemy back in our second year and it rather backfired. Took me a while to understand exactly how to cast it… once in a while it serves as a good lesson to watch your tongue," explained Harry, as though he were teaching a class. The gathering of Na'vi watched in fascination, as the prisoner continued to belch up large, slimy slugs. "Enough of the talk, I think." He turned back to Jake, saying, "My magical brethren, I leave it to you to carry out sentence as you see fit."

He gave a slight twist, and silently vanished.

Crossing from the container back into his main trunk, he immediately summoned Dobby, and passed him the small container of Kava. "Make sure this makes its way into Professor Umbridge's afternoon tea. She needs her tongue loosened, if you get what I mean." The little elf nodded enthusiastically. "Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter, sir!"

"Don't be seen doing it. Madam Umbridge is a sadist when it comes to punishment, I'd rather not see you harmed."

"Dobby is knowing already, mistress Umbridge is most unkind to house elves, Harry Potter sir."

"Just be careful. We'll get rid of her eventually."

* * *

History of Magic was spent as always, with Harry teaching Matt some of the lower-year material, on this day choosing to cover transfiguration theory. It was truly amazing how fast he was picking up the material, almost as if Harry had not only passed along some of his magical core, but had also passed on his knowledge, although perhaps dormant. If only Harry himself had been able to grasp things as quickly! Even Hermione was stumped as to his rapid grasp of the lesser material.

Just as class was about to let out, he got a message from his clone: 'package delivered.' He smirked, and said, "Defence Against the Dark Arts should be a real bit of entertainment this afternoon."

"What did you do now?" Hermione, of course, had heard the comment.

"Pulled a prank on our pink professor," answered Harry, smugly, "Her tongue needed a bit of loosening, I think."

"Just as long as nothing below the neck is loosened, I think we'll be fine," Matt muttered.

"Eww, eww, no. Oh Merlin," Harry groaned, "Did NOT need that kind of visual."

"Nor did I, come to think of it," said Matt, grimacing. No, a naked Professor Umbridge did nothing to one's appetite. Just then, the bell rang, ending the class. "Potions next, right?"

"Yeah. C'mon, best be early," Harry decided.

Although Professor Snape knew exactly what Harry had been up to, he still kept at him, playing out the part of 'potions professor from Hell'. By the time the period ended, Harry and Matt both had lost Gryffindor nearly fifty points for one thing or another. They hurried to clear up the workstation, all too glad to be off to lunch. Of course…

"Potter, Tyson. Both of you remain behind," Snape drawled.

Once the others had left the room, Snape said, "Draco is returning from St. Mungo's after supper. What arrangements can you have in place so he may continue to attend classes?"

"Right. We do have a connection with the headmaster's office, you already know about that. If Professor Dumbledore would allow it, we could bring Malfoy to class that way. He'll have to stick with us now, after what happened. By the way, what happened to those responsible?"

"The headmaster had their wands snapped, and they were expelled."

"Good that he acted. It looks like the old man can learn from his mistakes after all," said Harry, "I love the man to death, but sometimes…" he shook his head. "Either way, professor, Malfoy has a room in my trunk, just floo in with him after supper then."

"After supper. And Potter… Twenty points to Gryffindor, for your kindness."

"Thank you sir."

All too soon it was time for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Giggling students leaving the classroom was a good sign to Harry. Once the earlier class had exited, the trio stepped into the room. Bill was stationed by the door, and he smirked, seeing Harry, and pulled them over. "What did you do to her?" he whispered.

"Kava," Harry grinned. It was all Bill could do not to burst out into gales of laughter. He gestured toward the teacher's desk.

It was all too clear, the toad was in no condition to teach. She was barely keeping herself upright in her seat, her eyes glassy, a far-away look firmly in place. Her pink cardigan was cast carelessly on the floor behind the desk, as was the silly black bow she usually had in her hair.

"Hmph… looks like the entertainment's already happened," said Matt.

"Hang on…" He flashed a message to his clone.

"So what do we do? She's clearly in no condition to teach," said Ron. The amusement was not lost.

"We'll have an extra DA meeting."

"With the Slytherins?"

"They won't know that. But I think we can handle the class, right?" Already, other students were filing into the room, each casting curious looks toward the inebriated professor.

"Let me lead the lesson," said Bill, "It'll be less conspicuous."

"Great. And I'd really like if you could make it next meeting, this Sunday."

"Count on it," Bill smirked, and trotted up to the front of the room. "Let's hurry it up, please."

"Who put you in charge?" questioned Pansy Parkinson, from her seat near the back.

"It's obvious Madam Umbridge is in no state to conduct a lesson…" Bill began.

"Murmmmph…" came from the intoxicated teacher.

"So…" Bill continued, "Rather than just dismissing you, how about we have a practical lesson for a change?"

* * *

Harry's clone had returned to Pandora, choosing to spend the day with Jiro and Zack, as they worked with the scientists at Hell's Gate. Part of the day had been spent cleaning up the control tower, making it usable again. The cutting machine had done a lot of damage, so it took some time to repair.

By mid-afternoon, they had got everything cleaned up, and the room was resealed, the Pandoran atmosphere pushed back by the artificial earth atmosphere within the complex. Zack and Jiro had already brought their computer equipment up from the science lab they had been using, and were setting it up.

"Crap. I have to get back to Hogwarts," said Harry.

"Something happen?"

"I have to talk to Dumbledore… looks like the kava was a little stronger than I thought."

"Who'd you feed it to?" questioned Jiro.

"Umbridge," Harry smirked. Zack looked at Jiro, and they both burst out laughing.

"Call if you need anything." He popped away.

Less than a minute later, he passed through the door leading into the headmaster's office.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore greeted.

"It's not exactly Harry, sir… but my, well… apparently Professor Umbridge is in no shape to teach right now."

"Oh?"

"Bill's teaching the class while Professor Umbridge is slumped at her desk."

"And might you be the reason for her condition?" The headmaster's voice carried the sternness one expected given the situation, but his eyes were twinkling madly.

"Maybe."

"If you'll excuse me, Harry, I believe there is a classroom I need to look in on." He rose from behind his desk, gave a slight twist, and popped away.

"You would have done well in Slytherin, Harry," said the sorting hat, from its usual shelf.

"If not for Draco, I would have let you put me there," answered Harry, with a shrug. "'Afternoon, everyone." He retreated back to the trunk.

* * *

"Great, that's great, everyone," said Harry, "Now if we would switch places… the one casting offensive spells, please practice your shields. Pronunciation is important here. Pro-TEY-goh! Like so… Matt, if you will…"

"Expelliarmus!" Matt shouted, his wand thrust at Harry.

"Protego!" came the counter, with a blue shield encompassing their 'teacher'. The spell bounced harmlessly off it. "Right. Continue, then."

Even the Slytherins had begrudgingly participated at this point, seeing as the boy and the redhead had things quite in hand. Besides, this was the first practical lesson they'd had in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and this WAS their O.W.L. year. It was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Not to mention, whoever had put Umbridge in the state she was in, that was most certainly a very Slytherin thing to do.

"All right, that's great, everyone," said Harry, once again, as the pairs all stopped their practice. "Let's switch back… and remember, those of you on the offensive, nothing dangerous, please."

"Yes, we'd rather not have to send anyone to Madam Pomfrey," Bill added, as the partners switched. "The Protego shield is simple, and yet it might just save your life. Continue to practice it, even outside of class. It should be one of the first things you can think of, an automatic thing should you get into a magical firefight."

"Quite right indeed, Mr. Weasley." Everyone wheeled to see Dumbledore standing by the door.

"Professor," Harry greeted.

"I was informed there was a small difficulty with Madam Umbridge."

"Regretfully, yes, headmaster," answered Bill, indicating the new sleeping Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, "We decided it might be better to actually continue the class, rather than allowing a free period."

"Yes, and both of you have done quite well, I see. Twenty points to Gryffindor, for the pair of you taking initiative, and twenty points to Slytherin, for taking advantage of the offering. In the meantime, I shall see to Professor Umbridge. Carry on."

"Thank you, professor. All right, guys, let's continue," said Harry, while Dumbledore simply gestured at the sleeping Professor, levitating her from behind her desk. He carefully lifted her into her office, and the door closed behind them.

The group elected to take supper in the Great Hall, just to see how fast the news of that afternoon's class would travel. After all, the Hogwarts grapevine was legendary. Of course, the stories that circled, most of the time were not even close to the truth.

"We heard your DADA class was rather eventful," said George. Harry looked up to find both twins behind him.

"Yeah, you even filled in for the felled Professor!" Fred added.

"You're both right," said Matt, smirking, "Harry was in his element."

"But Bill was in charge," Harry quickly added, "I was just helping."

"Sure you were," said both twins.

"Besides," said George.

"Professor Potter sounds better than Professor Umbridge any day," Fred finished. Harry felt his face get rather red with that comment. "Although, I like Professor Weasley equally well," he threw in.

"Well, at least it wasn't another theory lesson," said Neville, from a few seats down, "We actually learned something today."

"And you did pretty good for yourself today, mate," said Harry.

"Your attention please," McGonagall called out. Everyone looked up to the head table to see Dumbledore standing at the podium. "Professor Umbridge is feeling slightly under the weather, and will not be joining us for the evening meal. I do wish to thank Mr. Weasley and his assistant, for their quick thinking in covering for Professor Umbridge this afternoon." He gestured to Bill, who stood at the doors leading to the entry hall. "I believe she will be well enough to carry on her teaching duties tomorrow. Carry on."

"Not bloody likely," said Fred, as he and his twin slinked off to their usual seats.

"If she feels anything like I did the first time we had that shit, she won't be fit to teach for a week," Matt smirked.

"My thoughts precisely."

"So will she get into trouble for… well, drinking?" questioned Matt.

"Why would she? Trelawney gets away with it," Ron pointed out.

"No, she's just a bad teacher," said Harry, between bites.

"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized.

"Oh ho, defending the Divination teacher? Never thought you would Hermione," Harry smirked.

"But… at least she wasn't falling all over herself… or passed out at her desk, for Merlin's sake! This afternoon… Professor Umbridge, passed out at her desk? It was disgraceful!"

"We know, Hermione. And that was the point," answered Harry, dropping his voice down so only they could hear, "This kind of thing looks terrible for a teacher, it's the kind of thing that could get her removed."

"So it's true then," questioned a fourth year Hufflepuff, from across the row, "Umbridge was really drunk in class today?"

"Plastered," said Ron, with a smirk, "Dumbledore had to levitate her back into her quarters."

"If we're lucky, we'll have an 'Umbridge-free' week, then," Matt smirked.

"Good riddance," threw in another Hufflepuff, "The woman's useless."

Once supper was over with, the group retreated back to the trunk, where Harry's clone waited. They quickly merged, and Harry had to nod at how his clone had smoothly dealt with Wainfleet's spitting attempt.

"What?" Matt had seen Harry nod at one of the memories.

"One of the prisoners decided to try and spit at my clone. He ended up spitting out slugs instead," answered Harry.

"What I tried to curse Malfoy with in second year," Ron remembered.

"One in the same. An apt punishment, I think." Just then, the floo fired, and Snape stepped out, bringing Malfoy with him. The boy was still unsteady on his feet, and looked like he was about to be sick from travelling by floo.

"Take a seat," Harry offered, gesturing to one of the couches. The boy only gave a curt nod, his demeanour utterly deflated, and planted himself into one of the comfortable couches.

"I still haven't had a chance to speak to Dumbledore," said Harry.

"I visited his office before I left for St. Mungo's," said Snape, "The headmaster is in agreement with your suggested arrangement."

"Great, that's great."

"What sort of arrangement?" questioned Draco.

"You'll need to stay with our group," answered Harry, "You knew this would happen eventually… never thought so soon, but all the same… if you go back to Slytherin, someone else may finish what the others started."

"Worse comes to worse, he can remain in the trunk, and keep up with his lessons through independent study," suggested Bill.

"That could easily be arranged," Snape agreed, "As to whether the headmaster would agree to it…"

"If we need to go that route, we will. For now, we just stick together, strength in numbers, and all."

"And Slytherin may not be as much of a problem as we might think," Bill reminded, "They actively participated in the class today."

"Yes, begrudgingly, but they did," Harry agreed.

"Yes, so the Headmaster informed me. You actively taught Dark Arts Defence today?" questioned Snape.

"Officially, I stood in for Professor Umbridge," said Bill, "But Harry effectively ran the lesson, covering the disarming hex, and a basic shield. The class was lively and interactive."

"What happened to Umbridge?" Draco dared ask.

"She had a little too much tea," Harry smirked. Draco caught on instantly, sharing a smirk of his own. "Very Slytherin of you."

"Yeah, she should be neutralized for the next few days. Anti-hangover and anti-intoxicant potions have no effect on Pandoran kava. She'll recover, just not all that quickly."

"If need be, I can continue to teach in her absence," said Bill, "I stand watch during her classes as it is."

"We'll need to share a pensieve memory with Jake and Tsu'tey," said Matt.

"Count on it. No doubt they'll get a laugh out of it. Although I do have to wonder what happened during the class just before ours."

"It hit her about mid-way through. At one point she was singing horribly off-key, started rambling about Fudge… the woman's touched in the head if she actually believes she'll be Minister of Magic one day."

"What was with the discarded clothes?" questioned Matt.

"Oh, that really had me going… thought I would actually have to stun her at one point. She was threatening to do a strip-tease right on the desk."

"No way!" Matt looked somewhere between shocked and intrigued.

"On my magic, I swear," answered Bill, solemnly, "But she stopped… like she realized what she was doing and got down. I think that group of third years are gonna be traumatized all the same. She teetered over to her desk, sat down, and well, that's how you saw her when you come in. I just had the class carry on with the reading she'd assigned at the beginning."

"Merlin, we'll have to do that more often, then," Harry smirked. Snape was doing his best not to laugh, but the amusement was escaping from his usual indifferent mask.

"Part of me believes you should serve a detention or two, for causing such mayhem, while another believes you should earn points for such an achievement. We'll call it even, I think," said Snape, "But I need not remind you, you are playing with fire with this woman."

"I know, Professor. I know all too well."

"You will be all right to remain here, Draco?"

"Yes sir."

"Then I am returning to the castle. Use the floo should you need anything." With that, the professor activated the floo, and vanished in the green flames.

"You really put something in Umbridge's tea?" Draco asked again.

"With amazing results," said Harry, with glee, "By the sounds of it, it loosened her tongue quite nicely."

"Without a doubt, Potter, you should have been a Slytherin," said Draco, shaking his head.

"Dad would have disowned me though," Harry smirked.

"Harry?" Jake's voice came over his radio set. He pushed a finger to his throat piece. "What's going on?"

"Mo'at asks you to bring Cedric with you to the Tree of Souls, whenever is convenient."

"How about now?" He felt his stomach do a loop.

"We'll be waiting for you."

"We have to take Cedric to Pandora," Harry announced, "Ron and Hermione, d'you mind helping Draco for a bit?"

"I'm perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much," answered Draco, curtly. He stood up, but was knocked back down by a wave of vertigo.

"I can remain behind," said Bill, "We'll have more than enough time to get reacquainted."

"True enough."

It took a bit longer than expected, as Cedric's parents were visiting with their son, and Harry had to take the time and explain what was happening. At first, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were against the idea, but with a bit of prodding and further explanations, as well as a visit into Harry's pensieve, they acquiesced to the idea, with the stipulation they be permitted to be with their son. Of course, that meant a quick council with the Na'vi, to get permission, which was easily granted.

Cedric's parents were awe-struck by the world they found themselves in. Harry had to grin at their expressions, even though the reason for the visit was gravely serious. Both of them were trying to take everything in, but it was truly overwhelming, with the kaleidoscope of colour that splashed before them. Even in darkness, the world was truly a beautiful thing.

"Bring him," said Neytiri, indicating the same spot on which Jake had transferred his consciousness permanently into his Avatar body. Harry levitated Cedric's petrified form to the spot, while a pair of Na'vi women knelt beside him. They held two small bowls in their hands, each filled with a liquid of some sort. One looked like ordinary water, while another had a purple tint to it.

"What has been done to him to this point?" inquired Mo'at.

"He was petrified, to prevent the curse from progressing further than it had," answered Harry, also kneeling beside him, "He was also given a potion which puts him into a sort of stasis."

"Sta…sis?"

"It's like it stops time for his body," Harry explained. Mo'at and Neytiri nodded, as they understood.

"The medicine we will give him will not work on its own, but the Great Mother will do what it cannot… do you understand?"

"So there's still a chance this might not work," Mrs. Diggory questioned, her voice carrying every bit of the fear she held.

"Yes, that is a possibility."

"But we have a chance to get our son back, dear. Just… let them carry on," said Mr. Diggory, "If he passes on…"

"He will be with the Great Mother," Mo'at finished, "This is no life, only existing." Harry only nodded at that. As much as he wanted his first love back, his death would be better than the state he was in. Could he deal with that outcome?

The purple-coloured medicine was being pressed to his lips then, and Harry pressed a finger to the boy's throat to make the body ingest the fluid. Already, glowing, hair-like threads were reaching up out of the ground, to weave themselves over Cedric's body, much like what had happened with Jake. The clan had already plugged their queues into the ground, and the entire place was pulsing with strong waves of magic. It was almost intoxicating.

"Now the second medicine," Mo'at directed. The second bowl was pressed against Cedric's lips, and Harry again helped, while Mo'at began speaking in her native tongue, a song or chant, by its sound. The pulses seemed to intensify, if that were even possible. Harry dared reach down and grip one of Cedric's hands, while he touched the tip of his wand to the ground. 'Please,' he thought, 'Don't let him die. I… I can't live without him.'

The world dissolved around him, and he found himself once again in a white void.

"If this is allowed, another will take his place," came the voice he had spoke with not long after he'd arrived on Pandora.

"I… I guess that's expected," Harry sighed, "I can't save everyone."

"Everything happens for a reason, Harry. Even you know this. There are some things you will be able to change, but others you cannot."

"But what you're asking… what you're saying… I don't think I can handle that!"

"You're a strong person, Harry. Remember this. You will not be given more than you can take."

The world rematerialized around him, just in time for Cedric's eyes to fly open, and a terrible cry unleash from his lips.

* * *

_**AUTHOR NOTES**__: Umbridge getting hammered? It was hinted a while back, that this was going to happen. As I continue to tie up a few loose ends from Pandora, this was a scene that just screamed to be written. Of course, there are likely going to be repercussions for this sort of action, right? And will Cedric be okay? Stay tuned!_

_Up next, we visit with Voldemort, the Ministry does something daft, and Harry's unscheduled day off becomes another adventure, for the wrong reasons...  
_

_(1) Part taken from p. 87, "Chamber of Secrets", Canadian soft-cover edition. I saw the movie before I read the book, but it had me in stitches, to say the least._


	47. Criminal Acts

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted October 27, 2010._

_Caution: Na'vi mating/bonding, fluff, coarse language._

**-CHAPTER XLVI-**

**CRIMINAL ACTS**

**Or, we find out the source of the plane crash**

As darkness fell across the land, a single individual hurried through the front doors of a large manor in Wiltshire. He hustled through the sumptuously decorated interior, to the drawing room, equally well decorated, save for the dim light, provided by the fire crackling in the fireplace, adorned by a gilded mirror. A solitary individual sat at the head of the table, the light from the fire coming from behind them, somewhat masking their appearance, yet, as the newcomer approached, it was easy to make out the hairless, snake-like face that was the _Dark Lord_.

"Yaxley," said Voldemort, "You're a day late."

"I apologize, my lord," answered the Death Eater, "But my mission to London was a resounding success."

"Do tell me about it, and perhaps your tardiness may be forgiven."

"The mudblood was more than cooperative, given a dose of the Cruciatus curse, my lord. The things called air-planes, the filthy Muggles use the contraptions heavily for travel." Yaxley sneered, saying, "It was almost too easy to bring one of them down."

"You made sure you were seen?"

"I am certain of it, My Lord, the Ministry arrived within minutes. The Statute remains secure, for now. As to some extra insurance, I also visited the Auror office with a statement of my own. Tomorrow's _Prophet_ should carry quite a tale."

"You've done well, Yaxley," said Voldemort, "You do still have a few hairs left over, should we plot more… operations?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"See to it, then." Yaxley stood, and bowed, catching the implied dismissal. Even the most devout followers of the Dark Lord carried a healthy fear of the man.

Harry felt his heart soar, as green eyes locked with grey. He quickly applied a bubble charm to his love's face, to protect against the poisonous Pandoran air.

"Harry?" Cedric breathed.

"I missed you so much!" Harry blurted out, relief coursing through his veins.

"That curse… last thing I remember… it was worse than the Cruciatus!"

"B-body rot curse," answered Harry. He could feel his entire body trembling, as the two of them embraced. "How… how do you feel?"

"I'm just fine… okay, nothing hurts," answered Cedric.

"You feel no pain?" questioned Mo'at, daring to enter their peripheral vision. Cedric started, seeing the strange creature that knelt beside them.

"This is a friend," said Harry, seeing Cedric's concern, "They're why you're alive and well."

"What… what are you, exactly?"

it was actually a nice distraction, in hindsight. It was dawn before Harry and Matt, along with Jake, helped in the explanation as to what was going on. A good number of times they had to stop, as the young wizard had to take the time to regroup, from the shock of the events being revealed. Harry left nothing out, as this was one of his partners, among which there were no secrets.

"Harry… it still floors me as to the character you have, mate," Cedric finally said, shaking his head. The group of them were gathered on a pile of conjured pillows, not far from the gnarled tree. His parents, after being reassured by Cedric himself, were escorted back to the trunk by Bill, who had then returned to the group.

"I have the three of you," said Harry, gesturing to Matt, Bill, and Cedric. "Cedric, you were petrified since my birthday. Some days, I was about ready to give up, to say, 'damn it all'… but seeing you, still alive… and Matt… he kept telling me, like Bill… 'Don't give up'. And I didn't. I won't. As long as I have you guys, I won't ever give up." Harry smirked, then said, "Mr. Diggory, would you do the honour of becoming my third boyfriend, and make us a quartet?"

"I accept, Mr. Potter," Cedric smirked right back.

"Good. Then let's forgo all the other dragon shit, and make it more official. Dobby?"

With a noisy POP, the excitable house elf appeared in front of them. "Harry Potter call for Dobby?" Harry leaned over and whispered into the elf's ear, "I need you to visit my Gringotts vault. The engagement rings, would you mind?"

"Dobby fetching right away!" Dobby vanished.

"I think my clone will be attending class for me today," Harry decided.

"We could go up _there_," Matt suggested, pointing to the massive floating rock formations, "The view's awesome."

"No doubt it is," Cedric agreed, with a laugh.

"Good. We can fly there. Bill, d'you mind popping back to the trunk, and locating our brooms? Cedric's Cleansweep should be in his room."

"Sure thing, Harry." Bill stood up, gave a slight twist, and vanished with a soft POP. Only a moment later, Dobby reappeared, bringing with him a small velvet bag.

"Thank you, Dobby," said Harry.

"Dobby happy to help Harry Potter, sir!" the little elf vanished.

"What is it?" questioned Matt.

"Have to wait until Bill comes back," said Harry, mischievously. He'd no sooner got the words out of his mouth, when the missing red-head reappeared, bringing with him three brooms: his own, Harry's Firebolt, and Cedric's Cleansweep.

"If you fly I must join you." Harry looked over to see Tsu'tey being helped over to their group.

"We really gotta do something about that foot," said Harry, "But yeah, if you'd like to join us, I'd be honoured."

"Madam Pomfrey couldn't do anything at all for it?" questioned Cedric, appraising the much larger alien.

"Alien body and structure, her words not mine," said Harry, "She did a remarkable job all the same, he could have lost it altogether."

"It might have been better if that was the case," said Bill, "He could have been fitted with a prosthetic."

"A pr… pros…" Tsu'tey attempted to pronounce the awkward word, but ended up butchering it.

"A fake foot. It wouldn't have worked quite as well as your natural one, but better than what you're dealing with now," Bill explained. Tsu'tey seemed to scowl for a second, but then nodded, as he understood what the wizard was saying.

"Is it… still possible?"

"We would have to remove your foot first," said Bill, "But you would feel no pain when it was done."

"This talk… so unnatural. But better than this… difficult riding Pa'li or Ikran with foot not working."

"Yeah, it would be," Harry agreed. He cleared his throat, and stood up. "Right." He reached into the velvet bag, and pulled out four rings. "William Arthur Weasley, Matthew James Tyson, and Cedric Diggory. I would ask you to each accept one of these rings, a symbol of your willingness to each become my bonded."

"Harry… oh my God… I…" Matt stammered, but took one of the rings at once. Cedric hesitated for a moment, but also accepted a ring.

"Harry. Are you sure?"

"Bill… you mean the world to me, as much as Matt or Cedric."

"Then I accept," said Bill, as he too slid on one of the silver bands.

"So who gets the honour of putting the ring on YOUR finger, Mr. Potter?" Matt smirked.

"Cedric," said Bill.

"Bill," Cedric answered.

"The three of you do it," said Jake. He and Neytiri had been watching the interaction, choosing not to interfere up to this point.

"And that is why you are Ole'eyctan," said Harry, as his three named mates slid the silver ring on his ring finger. As they did so, he felt a wave of pure magic wash through his core.

"We'll need to set a date, Harry," said Bill, "Oh Merlin, what's mum gonna say?"

"Ditto," said Cedric, "It's a welcome surprise, but… oh she's gonna be in a right state!" They heard Neytiri call out something in her native tongue, along with his name, and it was met with many happy shouts from the clan, who were then just rising.

"I see why you've fell in love with this place, Harry," said Cedric, he too feeling the tremendous charge of magical energy that flowed so easily around them.

"The Great Mother blesses you many times over, Harry," said Tsu'tey, reaching a hand over to squeeze the wizard on the shoulder.

"I'm equally honoured to have her blessing, Tsu'tey."

Albus Dumbledore was having one of the most stressful, draining school years yet. Hogwarts was under siege from not one, but two different directions: the Ministry, and Voldemort. For now, they were definitely two different entities. For how long, though? The Daily Prophet was certainly not helping matters either, for that matter, printing horrible, inflammatory stories about Harry and himself. Speaking of the Daily Prophet, a large barn owl flew in the window, to light on his polished desk, delivering said paper. Dumbledore paid the owl, opened the paper, and felt all the colour drain out of his face.

A large photo took up the top half of the Wizarding paper, showing the nasty aftermath of the air crash from two days ago. The inset showed someone shooting a spell directly into the air, although the target was unseen. Dumbledore didn't need to use a lot of imagination to know exactly _what_ the wizard was shooting spells at, nor what _kind_ of spell it was. A further inset captured the wizard's face quite well, and this was part of the reason for the headmaster's shock. The headline was the clincher.

_BOY-WHO-LIVED NEXT DARK WIZARD?_

_Eye witness accounts of the crash of a Muggle aeroplane in London on Sunday evening are almost positive Harry Potter was at the scene, and did in fact cast a spell at the Muggle contraption, only a moment after it left the ground. All on board the machine were killed in the crash, and Muggle authorities are working the disaster site much like ants after their hill has been disturbed._

_The Ministry of Magic has thus far declined to officially comment on the incident, but sources close to the Minister have stated, 'off the record', "steps will be taken in the very near future, as this sort of lawlessness cannot be allowed to continue."_

_When pressed about exactly what that may entail, the source declined a further comment. The Daily Prophet can only hope the Ministry will not delay in taking action, as it is clear, Potter is an extremely unstable wizard, who should not be walking about a school full of children, let alone be out in public at all._

_We at the Daily Prophet are encouraging all individuals, if you are concerned about your safety, let the Ministry know about it. Owl the Minister, let him hear your concerns, so we may remove this unbalanced individual and prevent him from further acts, whether it be against lowly Muggles, or the esteemed Wizarding public._

Dumbledore felt his stomach sink, much like one might riding a Muggle roller coaster. He almost flew out from behind his desk, as fast as his one-hundred-fifty year-old-plus body could, and dashed to the door leading into Harry's trunk. He attempted to turn the handle, but found he couldn't. 'Oh dear…' He quickly tried the floo, but like the door, found his entry barred that way as well.

Drawing a few deep breaths to calm down, he returned to his desk, drew out a page of parchment, and scribbled out a message. "Fawkes, please take this into Harry's trunk, deliver it to the first witch or wizard you find." He knew better than to try and deliver it directly to Harry, as the boy had spent the night in Pandora. As of yet, the phoenix had not been able to flame there.

_Not long before…_

Although she had no concrete proof, Delores Umbridge knew deep in her belly, the Potter brat was responsible for the condition she found herself in. 'Make a fool out of me, will you, Potter?' she shouted in her head, as she stormed up to the Gryffindor dormitory. Perhaps a dose of the Cruciatus curse might loosen his tongue. Or… no, there was always an easier way. His possessions might make him talk, won't they? Surely, he would spill all his dirty little secrets, what, with the threat of his prized Firebolt being burned in the common room fireplace, hmm?

Arriving at the portrait of the Fat Lady, she muttered the teachers' password, and was quickly granted entry. The Fat Lady was off quick as lightning, passing on the message about the High Inquisitor entering the Gryffindor common room.

Umbridge, meanwhile, stormed up to the fifth year boys' dormitory, slamming the door open wide, scaring the four occupants.

"I demand to know where Harry Potter is!" she shouted. The woman looked like she'd had it out with… well… something. She still wore the clothes she wore the day before, absent of the pink shawl, but the pink bow was back, albeit placed badly. It made her look even worse.

"W-w-we don't know… where Harry is," Dean Thomas managed.

"Y-yeah… he… he doesn't sleep here anymore," Neville hesitated, adding, "S-seamus wasn't… nice to him."

"Oh, so it's my fault is it?" Seamus snapped, giving his roommate a nasty look.

"You know it is, Seamus! You know the Bloody _Prophet's_ full of it!"

"Enough!" Umbridge screeched, "I… want to know, where Harry Potter is, this instant!"

"We don't know," said Seamus.

"Twenty points, _each_, from Gryffindor, for lying to a teacher!"

"What?" Seamus looked surprised.

"But, you can't-we don't know!" Neville pleaded.

"I shall take a further twenty points, for-"

"Delores, might I ask exactly what you are doing in the Gryffindor dormitory?" Umbridge turned to find McGonagall standing in the doorway, still dressed in her bedclothes, but her hair was put up in its customary bun. Her body language spoke VOLUMES about what she thought of the situation.

"This is not your place to intervene, Deputy Headmistress!" Umbridge snapped back.

"As head of house, it most definitely does concern me, Delores. Now I asked you, what are you doing up here that is upsetting my students?"

"I am through being polite about this. I will not leave this room until I know where Harry Potter is," Umbridge simpered, the girly tone back in full force. She gestured at the trunk resting at the foot of Harry's bed, flicking open the lid.

"Professor, you have no right!" said Neville, then to McGonagall, "Tell her that!"

"Unfortunately, she does, Mr. Longbottom," answered McGonagall, then turned to Umbridge, asking, "What is it you're looking for?"

"He stores his things in here. If he expects them back in the same condition as I take them, he will submit to my questions," answered the High Inquisitor, with a girly laugh. "In fact, I think I'll just collect the entire trunk."

"You will not be removing a student's trunk from their dormitory, Delores." McGonagall gestured with her wand, dispatching a Patronus.

"And you plan on stopping me? I can have the papers to have you sacked filed before breakfast is over, Minerva," answered the squat witch, coldly, as she slammed the lid of the trunk closed. She then attempted to levitate the trunk, but was baffled, as nothing happened. She reacted by using a stronger charm. It too, had no effect.

"What has the boy done? Stuck it to the floor, did he?" She thrust her wand at the trunk, snapping, "_Reducto_!"

The result was instant. The spell reflected back at her, and the trunk flashed black momentarily, before vanishing. Umbridge did not see it, too busy ducking from her own spell, but McGonagall did: the door beside the bathroom also flashed black for a moment. Whatever Umbridge had just done, had likely barred EVERYONE from entry into Harry's trunk. She had a good idea about some of the protections put on it, considering exactly who one of Harry's boyfriends was.

Inside the trunk, in Harry, Matt, Bill, and Cedric's room, an arc of magical energy jumped from the ceiling to the odd cylinder which still rested on the dresser, knocking it to the floor. It glowed red for a moment. The device resembling a typewriter, stowed away in its warded crate, also turned red for a moment, several of its keys being pressed simultaneously. The thump on the floor brought Owen in from the studio. "Harry? Matt? Bill?" Getting no answer, he shrugged, and went back into the studio.

It was just that moment when Dumbledore stepped into the dormitory. He looked very pale, and McGonagall knew it was nothing to do with her Patronus message. He surveyed the room for a moment, and his eyes came to rest on the missing trunk. "Might I ask where Mr. Potter's trunk has disappeared to?" he inquired.

"Professor Umbridge… she tried to blast it, and it just… vanished, sir," answered Dean.

"Delores, I did warn you about remaining in your quarters, did I not?" questioned Dumbledore.

"You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do, headmaster," answered Umbridge, "The Ministry-"

"Will be hearing about your doing damage to a student's belongings," McGonagall finished, "Really, you must get a hold of yourself, Delores!" She had to smirk inwardly, at the atrocious behaviour on the part of her, 'colleague'.

"Professor Umbridge, I leave you with two choices. You will either return to your quarters, or you will visit the infirmary. Whichever choice, you are to remain there for the day."

"But you-"

"Can direct my staff if necessary, Professor. That is within my prevue."

"Very well… Headmaster… Professor…" said the squat witch, and she tottered out of the room, looking rather deflated.

"Minerva, perhaps we should discuss this further in my office," Dumbledore decided. By the likes of it, Minerva had not seen the _Prophet_ yet.

Back in the headmaster's office, they were swiftly met by Snape. He had obviously seen the front page of the paper. He had also not been able to get into Harry's trunk.

"The High Inquisitor has just triggered the strongest wards possible on Potter's trunk," said McGonagall.

"It would explain why we can't get into the trunk, either through the doors or the floo," said Dumbledore. He glanced over at Fawkes, resting on his perch. "I've sent a message into the trunk with Fawkes."

"Perhaps you might send a copy of the paper to him as well," said Snape.

"What about the paper?" questioned McGonagall. Dumbledore simply slid the copy of the paper across the desk. She took it, looked at it, and gasped. "Surely this cannot be true."

"We know it's not, Minerva."

"This is the Dark Lord's doing," said Snape.

"Polyjuice," said Dumbledore. That got a nod from Snape. "Most likely, headmaster. He had more than enough opportunity to collect hair in July."

"This will break the boy, Albus, he's already made threats about abandoning us."

"I know that, Minerva. I know all too well." The discussion was cut short, as the floo roared green, and four Aurors flooded into the room, wands drawn.

"Professor Dumbledore," spoke the first, "I bring with me a warrant for the arrest of one Harry James Potter." Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, promptly fainted.

Cedric was awe-struck by the beauty of Pandora. He flew with Harry on his Firebolt, while Matt borrowed his Cleansweep. Bill also flew on his own broom, while Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu'tey flew alongside on their Ikran mounts. It had taken no time at all for them to soar up over the floating rock formations that made up the Hallelujah Mountains, and, as Alpha Centuri breached the horizon, they settled down on one of the larger formations. The Ikran scooted off to one side, to rest together, while Na'vi and wizards gathered nearer to the middle.

"Don't let me forget, I'll need to produce my clone shortly."

"Yeah, I'll want to attend class today as well," said Matt.

"Nope. You guys get to spend the day here with me," Harry grinned.

"Playing hooky again?" Jake teased.

"Yeah, something like that. I shouldn't really, but-"

"You have all of your mates with you again," Tsu'tey finished. Even he could see the effect Cedric was having on the young wizard.

"Right in one, honorary brother," Harry smiled, "Right here, right now, I have my mates with me. I'm a hop away from my best friends and my godfather and my mentor. For now… everything is okay. I know it can't last, but, it's all I ask for, just once in a while, for everything to be… all right. No expectations, no demands. So today, is a break. Much like the first few days I spent here, I did nothing but sit and think, reflect, recharge." Harry once again conjured up a pile of squishy pillows for everyone to rest on. Bill quickly joined in with the activity, and soon everyone was settled on the very soft pad they had created.

Cedric wasted little time planting himself beside Harry, with Bill taking his other side. Matt cuddled up beside Bill, earning a smirk from both Harry and Cedric.

"You guys like each other, then," said Cedric, finally.

"Something like that," Matt answered, with a grin. He then let out a squawk, feeling a hand squeeze his backside.

"Um… right." Cedric answered, feeling his face get rather hot. Jake and Neytiri only smiled, both reaching back and pulling their queues out in front of them. Almost with calculated, gentle speed, they allowed their queues to mesh, Jake seeming to flinch slightly as the bond was made.

"What's it like?" questioned Cedric, seeing the bond for the first time.

"To form Tsaheylu?" Jake countered, although his eyes were still firmly locked on Neytiri's.

"Yeah. Is that how you… well… you know…"

"Except it's beyond anything you can ever imagine," answered Jake. Even their tails were intertwined at this point, a powerful indicator of just how strong the bond truly was.

"It would be like, you being able to read every thought, every memory I've ever had," Harry surmised. Cedric arched an eyebrow. "Merlin…"

"They know absolutely everything about each other. They keep nothing back."

"The perfect mate," said Bill.

"When I discovered what was done," said Tsu'tey, "I was most angry… Neytiri was future mate. Jake come and everything destroyed, my thoughts. But Eywa does all for a reason."

"So she reminded me this morning," said Harry, "Tsu'tey, there will be someone for you. There's one for each of us."

"This I also believe, Harry."

Suddenly, Harry sat bolt upright on his pillows. "What the?" it felt like he'd just been slammed with a powerful wave of magic. A loud 'ping' went off what he called the 'ward sense', his connection to the wards at Hogwarts. And then… a powerful wave of vertigo.

"Oh Merlin… not again…" Harry moaned, flopping down on the pillows.

"Harry… you okay, mate?" questioned Cedric.

"No… no no no…" Harry protested, hearing the voices growing distant.

"Grab onto him! It's happening again!" Bill realized, and four sets of hands reached out for the boy-who-lived. The Na'vi warrior had no clue what they were trying to prevent, but if he could help, why not?

"Please… g-gentle landing this time," Harry prayed, hoping whoever it was pulling the strings would actually hear his prayers this time.

The familiar, horrible CRACK filled his senses, followed by flashes of white, then darkness, with more than a few other colours after. It finally turned dark again, although still light enough to see, and to his horror, Harry realized, he was free-falling through the atmosphere at terminal velocity. He was about to make a big hole if he didn't act.

Automatically, a bubble-head charm was in place. It looked like earth, but he didn't chance it. Next… his broom. His Firebolt had been shrunk and put in his pocket. He pulled it out, resized it, and mounted it. Five-thousand feet and closing fast. 'Come on, faster!' he thought, the trees were coming up faster and faster. Twenty-five hundred feet. The broom was still out of control. 'Come on!'

"For bloody Christ's sake, fucking WORK!" Harry practically shouted, his hands willing the broom to stop their free-fall, and it slowly began to come around, as he neared the treetops. His heart was hammering at his chest, as if it were trying to batter its way out of its confines, into the dim light of the moon. 'Disillusionment charm', he thought, and muttered the incantation. "Now just figure out _where_ we are, _when_ we are, and _what_ exactly we're doing here," he muttered, "Same shit, different pile."

_**AUTHOR NOTES**: So, we're off on another adventure. I won't ask you to guess where, although it's a safe bet he's still on earth, right? Now, the question: has the Ministry gone too far? How will Harry react when he eventually finds out about their stupidity?_


	48. A Waning Sun

_Well now. It's been over a year since I've posted anything to this story. I've even had a few Private Messages asking if I was still working on it. Well, most certainly I am. I ran into a severe case of writer's block, and had painted myself into a corner._

_Sometimes the best thing to do is strip out the problem altogether, namely, the dive into the "Criminal Minds" universe. It was fun, but more complicated than I wanted. So it's out. Equally important, I now have some sort of ending in sight, at least as far as the temporal displacement devices are concerned. Do stay tuned._

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted February XX, 2012._

_With the introduction of another universe, I must cite a disclaimer: I do not own "Sunshine", nor its characters. It remains the property of Fox/Searchlight, I'm only playing in their sandbox._

**-CHAPTER 47-**

**A WANING SUN**

**Or, Harry goes where no Wizard has gone before**

Still disillusioned, Harry at last touched down, seeing a run-down building a short distance away. He could feel a strong magnetic field radiating from the structure—scratch that, a strong magical signature. 'No sense beating around the bush,' he thought, making his way closer to the building. He touched a finger to his broom, re-shrinking it, and placed it in his pocket again for safe keeping.

The main room of the building was in every bit the dilapidated shape as the entry, and it reminded him of his visit to the Gaunt shack in Little Hangleton. The place had definitely seen better days, as decaying leaves littered the floor and its rotting wood. Branches from nearby trees had pushed their way through one of the windows, and the roof had a few holes in it, as evidenced by the beams of soft light cast from the nearly full moon.

He was immediately drawn to a medium-sized chest off to one side of the room. Harry at once picked up evidence of a strong concealment charm, as well as a mild Muggle-repelling charm, designed to divert attention elsewhere. To Harry, of course, it looked like new, beckoning for him to open it and claim its contents.

His thought process was interrupted with a crash of twigs and branches, and a soft body impacting with the ground.

"Ooof," came Matt's voice, then, "Harry?"

"Matt? You all right?" Harry was out the door and to his partner's side in a heartbeat.

"I'm fine. Love to redo that landing though." He sat up, looking around. "Where are we this time?"

"Dunno." He was just in time to see Cedric, Bill, and Tsu'tey land a short distance away in a tangle of limbs. It was followed immediately after by a loud thud, as something impacted with a tree somewhere behind them. Harry didn't need any stretch of the imagination to know it was his trunk. It had followed him on most of these 'journeys' so far, after all. Bill was already applying a bubble-head charm to Tsu'tey's face, while the others dusted themselves off.

"Everyone okay?" Bill finally asked.

"Fine. Blimey, Harry, this what you meant about your... dimension-hopping?"

"Exactly so, Ced. Bill, you mind getting Tsu'tey back to Pandora? The trunk's over there." Harry gestured to the trunk, resting haphazardly against a tree.

"I'll see to it."

"And send Jake our apologies. Bloody hell." Harry blew out a breath, and waved a wide circle with his hand. "_Repello Muggletum_. _Cave Inimicum_. _Muffliato._ Rather not have unwanted visitors."

"Be safe, brother," said Tsu'tey, as Bill led him over to the trunk. Bill then tried to apparate, but ended up nearly falling over. "Harry? Something's triggered the wards on the trunk."

"As if things can't get any better. Climb in then. Matt or Cedric, one of you mind helping Tsu'tey climb down the ladder?"

"Got it," said Matt.

"I'll collect what I've been brought here to collect, then I'll be down myself."

"I'll look into what's going on with the wards." Bill was already opening the lid to the trunk.

Harry watched them climb in.

Cedric shook his head. "You weren't joking about the landing."

"Been the same way every time. It's like the cosmos seems to get a great thrill out of dropping me from height—shit... your face looks like you had it out with a kneazle. Hold still."

"Err..."

"_Episkey_." Cedric felt his face sting for a few moments, as the scratches vanished. "Thanks, mate."

"Now let's get what we're here for."

"You already know where it is?"

"I was about to collect it when the rest of you dropped out of the sky. Bloody hell. Lucky no one was seriously hurt, or killed for that matter!"

"It's done, Harry. Just leave it be." Harry was already leading his first mate back to the dilapidated building.

"Doesn't look like a going concern. _Lumos_." Cedric already held his wand out in front of him, and it cast a silvery light around them.

"My thoughts exactly. But look." They were already back inside the single-room building, and Harry gestured to the medium-sized chest which looked very much out of place in its surroundings. Harry gestured with a hand, casting a series of detection spells, and finding nothing dangerous in any of them, lifted the cover of it.

Inside, was what resembled a mantle clock, something like he'd seen above the fireplace in McGonagall's office. However, on further inspection, it was clear this was something very different. There were at least a dozen hands on the main face, all of them pointing to different places… as though it were telling the time in different places all at once. The smaller dials were different controls.

"A manual of sorts would've helped," said Cedric, peering in at the device.

"When's it ever been easy?" Harry reached in and pulled the device out, then shrunk it down so it would fit in his pants pocket. "All right, back to the trunk. I'd rather get back to what we were doing."

"Agreed." Cedric put an arm around Harry's shoulder as they exited the building. At least this diversion had been brief.

Unfortunately, when they arrived back in the trunk's common room, it was clear things were far from back to normal.

"Harry… thank Merlin," said Sirius, as Harry and Cedric stepped into the study. He looked around the room, and noting the few faces around the table and their unsettled looks, somehow he knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to find out.

"The _Daily Prophet_ today," said Remus, simply, sliding a copy of it across the table. Even before picking it up, he caught the headline, and could feel his anger starting to boil. Without reading it, he simply picked it up, and tore it in half.

"You can't just ignore it, Harry," said Sirius, "A warrant for your arrest is likely being drawn up as we speak."

"No doubt there."

"Harry?" Hermione stood at the entrance, already dressed for the day, her book bag slung over her shoulder. "Why won't the door work?"

"What do you mean?" Unless. Right, the spell damage. "The trunk's in lockdown mode. Someone tried to break into it this morning. Two knuts says it was Umbridge again. Give me a second."

Seconds became several minutes, as he tried several times to undo the lockdown state put on the two exterior doors, and the floo connections.

"Hell and damnation," Harry muttered, "Whatever they tried to do, it's jammed it up good."

"I can give it a go if you like."

"Sure… but I have a feeling we'll be needing to remove the wards altogether and reapply them."

"Well can you fix it?" questioned Ron. He was standing in the arch way leading into the dining room. Draco was seated at the table, a scowl planted on his face—he most certainly didn't like having to tote around with Gryffindors after all.

"Like I said to your brother, I don't know. Whoever cursed it did a number. It's almost as if it still thinks it's threatened."

"Your trunk isn't sentient, mate."

"Tell that to the wards."

"We have to fix this sooner rather than later, Harry. Dad's at work…" Bill glanced up at the clock over the fireplace. "Would've left just before we… well… jumped through dimensions again."

"You're better at this stuff than I am, Bill… d'you mind sorting it out?"

"Of course." Bill knelt in front of the fireplace and set to work.

"What has happened?" Tsu'tey finally dared ask, not understanding the wizard-speak.

"Someone tried to damage my trunk, in a nutshell. It triggered the wards so the only way in or out of it is through the lid."

"Harry, I will have to completely disable the wards. Whatever attacked it, they won't reset," Bill announced, sounding frustrated.

"Go ahead. Means we'll have to recreate the white list as well then. Bloody hell I'm gonna strangle that woman, so help me," Harry declared.

Fawkes chose that moment to materialize in a blaze of flames, to land on the back of the couch, a scroll clutched in his claws. Harry assumed it was for him, and collected the item.

"Right, that should about do it," Bill declared, as the fireplace shimmered in a bright green colour for a second.

"D'you mind-" Harry stopped mid-sentence. "Merlin's balls!" He shouted, having at last glanced at the note. It was from Dumbledore, but his usual smooth, loopy writing looked rather distorted, as if the headmaster's hands were shaking when the note was written.

"What is it?" questioned Matt, but Harry only passed over the parchment. "_Harry, keep away from Hogwarts, Ministry has issued warrant for your arrest. I'm working to get it sorted, signed A.D._"

"They've gone completely nutters this time," said Matt, shaking his head, "Jesus are they really that blind?"

"Beyond nutters," Cedric agreed, as the note was passed over. He had doubted some of Harry's story, if only slightly. But the past few hours were proving every word of it true. His mate was a true magnet for trouble, and that was all there was to it.

"Fawkes, can you come with me? I need your help outside the trunk." The bird simply lit over to his shoulder, and the pair popped away.

Harry returned only a few seconds later. "The trunk's been moved to Pandora."

"Tsu'tey. I'll help you back outside then," Matt offered.

"You collect what we jumped dimensions for?" Questioned Bill, as he again knelt in front of the fireplace.

"Yeah, done. At least no crazy side-incidents this time for a change. Now that we're back in Pandora, I'd kind of like to get back to what we were doing."

"You're just going to leave the, err... device we just collected?" Cedric arched an eyebrow.

"I'll leave it in the room for now, and look at it later. Unless you're bent on doing that sort of thing now."

"Right. We're off to class," said Hermione, dragging Ron over to the floo, Draco reluctantly following.

"Have a good day, guys," Harry offered, as Bill moved out of the way. They were gone seconds apart.

As much as Harry tried to push thoughts about the newest addition to his pile of cosmic treasures, they kept forcing their way to the forefront of his mind. Finally as it neared mid-afternoon, the group returned to the trunk. They found Dumbledore waiting in the common room.

"Professor."

"Harry. I was able to convince the minister to rescind your arrest warrant, but the department of magical law enforcement does require a sworn, binding statement to the effect you had nothing to do with the incident involving a Muggle aircraft a few days ago."

"I can do that. I'm still astounded the ministry is truly that daft. Don't they know about polyjuice? Glamour charms? There's a list as long as my arm of things people can do to impersonate someone else." Harry took a breath, while both Bill and Cedric put an arm on his shoulders. "Thank you, professor."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Should we expect you back in class tomorrow?"

"Really depends on what happens between now and then, professor. Barring another jump across dimensions... hopefully."

"Of course." Dumbledore inclined his head again, fully understanding the trouble which seemed to find his student.

"We're just about to look at the latest find, sir." Harry fished the strange clock-like device out of his pocket and re-sized it.

"Remarkable. A most complicated kind of clock, I would imagine."

"My thoughts too. Guys, let's take this into the study. Bill, you mind collecting the other instruments from our room."

"Got it."

The aged professor was certainly aware of the number of objects Harry had already collected, but to see them all laid out on the central table in the study gave him pause. Each one of them had been hair-raising events in one way or another. The clock was quickly added, and with a gesture of a finger, it was doubled in size.

"Harry. Look." Cedric pointed at the typewriter-like device they had recovered when they met Billy. Two of the keys were now glowing, one green, one red. A third key also lit up, this time a blue shade.

"Stop, start, and..." Harry made a face, and pressed a finger to his throat, activating his radio set. "Zack?"

"What's up, Harry?"

"Got three keys on that typewriter-like device. One's lit red, one's green, the other's blue. We figure stop, start, and?"

"What made it come on?" came the reply.

"We found another device. Looks like a clock but it has a lot of different faces on it."

"My hunch would be configuration. Harry. Be careful."

"I will." He turned back to the device. "Zack says the blue one may mean configuration."

"Makes sense," Matt agreed, "Maybe all this shit will make sense now."

"Professor?"

"Alas, I'm as much in the dark as you are, Harry. But I would proceed carefully."

"I know, sir. Wish me luck." With that, Harry reached an index finger to the device, and pressed the blue button.

Nothing happened.

"Well... that was exciting."

"Reminds me of that 'Marvin the Martian' clip out of Looney Tunes, said Matt, with a goofy grin, '_Where's the kaboom? There was supposed to be an earth-shattering-_" The world suddenly went sideways.

The next thing Harry knew, he seemed to be surrounded by many images, all floating around at different speeds. Each image had a long string of numbers under it, the tail end of them changing at a ridiculous rate. Even more fascinating, some images were moving faster than others. It was like... he was seeing snapshots of every universe possible, all at once!

"Where am I?" he wondered aloud. An image instantly zoomed in front of him, enlarging itself to take up most of his peripheral vision. It showed the outside of the trunk, but everything seemed to be frozen. The numbers at the bottom were frozen, rather than counting as the others were.

On a hunch, he reached out, and gestured with his hand, as if to swat the image off to the side. He was pleased to find it worked exactly as intended, with the image moving back amongst the rest. If it worked that way, then... he reached out and grabbed the frame of another image from the floating maelstrom. The image now occupying most of his peripheral vision was that of an inter-stellar space vehicle, much like what Jake had described to him. It looked like it was travelling toward a star. To study it perhaps? The numbers were counting up, like the rest of the pictures, and Harry had to wonder. How was this device able to get the pictures it had? It was like watching the telly in some ways.

He watched the image for a few minutes, then reached up to swat it back with the rest of the pictures. His aim was slightly off, however, and instead, he touched what was the image itself, rather than the edge. There came an enormous CRACK, and the sensation which followed felt exactly like he was being side-apparated. The journey strongly reminded him of the final fight he had with Fenir Greyback, the leader of the werewolves. They had clawed at each other for nearly five minutes, all the while apparating rather violently across the country, dragging a plume of pitch-black smoke behind them. This felt exactly the same, mentally and physically, even though he was the only one travelling.

For once, he landed on his feet. The bright light nearly blinded him for a second, but through closed eyes, he quickly muttered the spell to disillusion himself. A bubble-head charm was next, since he was unsure of the environment. It was almost becoming a procedure at this point. He squinted his eyes, and allowed them to adjust to the intense white of the room he found himself in. He pressed a finger to his radio collar. "This is magic one over."

"Harry? Where are you now?" came Matt's concerned voice.

"I dunno, I think it's some space ship or something. Whatever that device does, it's wicked. At least I didn't get dropped on my arse this time. Felt like apparition. I'm disillusioned, so I'm gonna have a look around. The device led me here, so you all know the drill."

"Be careful, mate."

"Ditto. Watch your back," came Jiro's voice.

"Careful casting magic, eh?" came Zachariah's warning, "Magic and Muggle electronics don't work well together."

"Copy that. Magic one out." he then raised a finger. "_Homenum revelio_." He mentally groaned as eight different shades seemed to register in his mind's eye. Eight individuals he would have to dodge carefully. Last thing he wanted was to get involved with whatever sort of mission they were on. "_Magia revelio_." He was rewarded with a moderate glow a distance ahead of him. 'So this is a part of my cosmic treasure hunt,' Harry muttered, and set off in search of the elusive item.

Why in Merlin's name would they put one of the devices on a space ship of all things? It was the one exclamation mark which kept running through his head, as he moved through the rather tight tunnels. The ship was bordering on claustrophobic, and Harry actually shivered at the idea of having to spend any length of time in such an environment. Of course, things all had their place, and most certainly had their uses. From what Jake had told him, traveling in space was an expensive venture, no matter what the reason, and so nothing frivolous was allowed.

Harry at last came upon an intersection. Casting the magic detection charm again, he turned down a different tunnel, and at last, to a closed door. The name 'Kaneda' was affixed to the door. "_Silencio_," Harry whispered, gesturing at his feet, then carefully as he could, opened the door. Luck was with him, as the door opened without a sound. He held his wand at the ready, but found it unnecessary, as the cabin's occupant was sound asleep in his bed. Harry silently closed the door, then once again cast the magic detection charm.

From there, it was only a few minutes time before he located the article he was after. It had been stowed in a small bag the man had brought aboard the ship, most likely planted there before they left Earth. Like the others, it carried the usual notice-me-not charms and the like. He wasted little time dispelling them, and re-enlarging the package back to its proper size. He almost cheered, seeing it was a stack of documents and papers, the top page containing what looked like a lengthy arithmency equation. 'If only I'd been given this shit in the first place!' he shouted in his head, as he flipped through the pages. 'Now, how to get back?'

He was startled, as the occupant of the cabin let out a snort, and reached up to rub his eyes. 'Shit, now I'm stuck in here,' Harry realized. The man was waking up. The room instantly brightened, as the ship seemed to detect the occupant's waking up. Now Harry could see him better. He was an Asian man, likely Japanese, with brown eyes, black hair, sporting a short, bristly beard and moustache. Not thinking much else about him, Harry eased himself into a corner of the room, being sure to stay out of the way while the crew member went about his business. From there it would be just a matter of following him out. Unless he could figure out how to return to the room with all the pictures in it.

A few tense minutes later, there came a female voice. "Captain, you are wanted in the crew mess."

"Thank you, Icarus." The crew member—or the ship's captain, as he now realized, left the room, much to Harry's relief. However, the unsaid urgency in the woman's voice had him follow quickly after, still holding the stack of parchment in a death grip.

The ship was claustrophobic, but enormous at the same time. The captain traveled through several tunnels, at last arriving at the crew's mess. Breakfast was being served, but a rather heated discussion was under way between several of the other members.

"It's not possible, Mace. Eighteen months, we would have known already," a female crew member was saying. She was also Asian, judging by her features.

"Icarus says there are nine people, I swear it," the crew member named Mace shot back heatedly, "I combed through her logs at least four times."

Kaneda crossed his arms and frowned. "Icarus, how many crew members are on board?"

"I detect nine crew members," came the woman's voice Harry heard earlier. 'Shit', he mentally cursed. Of course, there was no way to magically hide from a computer. Many conversations with Zack and Jiro had cemented that concept.

"Who is the ninth crew member?" demanded Mace.

"Unknown."

"And where is this ninth crew member?"

"In the Crew Mess."

The reaction was precious, to say the least, and had the situation not been as serious, he would have burst out laughing. The captain furrowed his brow and frowned. The man named Mace looked pissed, while the Asian crew member looked perplexed. Of course, all had looked around the room, expecting the missing person to just, magically appear.

"Maybe you need to have a chat with Icarus, doc," spoke another member, sitting off by himself. He had a pad of paper in front of him, and he had been busy writing, or so it appeared. For a moment, Harry thought he was looking at a cousin of Matt's. He had a similar facial structure, but shorter, lighter hair. He looked to be rather skinny, resembling a college student rather than an astronaut. He looked strangely out of place amongst the others.

"Hey, no one asked for your opinion!" Mace snapped. He sported short-cropped hair and a days' growth on his face. He was tall and relatively muscular. Harry imagined he was a military type. Security, maybe?

"Just sayin', last thing we need is Icarus to go crazy on us."

"Mace, run a complete diagnostic," Kaneda ordered. Mace glared at the other crew member, then stormed off.

Harry pressed himself into a corner, and watched, as the crew seemed to forget about the strange incident, and return to their business. The spot he had would do for now, as he returned to reading the lengthy stack of parchment. Everything was explained in great detail, or at least he hoped. Maybe that meant the end of the crash landings—or more importantly, perhaps, the end of the cosmic treasure hunt as a whole. He had three partners, classes to attend, and a certain dark wizard to take care of—never mind his plan for radical changes at the Ministry. None of his agenda would be taken care of while he was off hunting down strange cosmic artefacts!

He was pulled out of his reading sometime later (he'd slipped into one of the cramped booths so not to be standing on his feet—bigger risk, but a little more comfortable), as another female voice carried over the public address system. "Guys! You wanna see something?" Harry watched as the only other crew member stood up and left. Did he follow?

The observation room, as they called it, was basically a rectangular room, with a single, large, floor to ceiling window. At first, Harry was completely baffled at what he was actually looking at. At least, until Kaneda at last spoke up. "Upon reflection, what can one say? Ladies and gentlemen—Mercury."

Harry had most certainly studied the Solar system. It was one of the earlier astronomy lessons. He still had his first star chart still shoved in his old trunk somewhere. To study the planets through a telescope and magical star maps was one thing... but to see it for real, a dark spot silhouetted against the sun, it left Harry weak. He realized exactly what he was witnessing, and a pain went through his heart as he wished his mates could be there with him.

Long minutes passed before he tore his eyes away, and retreated to the door. Unfortunately, not paying attention, he wasn't as silent as he could have been, and the opening door was heard—and seen.

"I knew it!" Mace exclaimed, bolting after the invisible target. Luckily for Harry, he was still invisible, and was able to duck into a cramped alcove. The muscular man raced past, but Harry stayed put, knowing that likely the rest of them would be hunting for him as well. Perhaps he should just show his face and get it over with. A few memory charms, and everything would be right as rain. It was no good having these people running around in circles, considering he WAS the intruder, after all.

As soon as he determined it clear, he crawled out of the cramped alcove, and returned to the observation room, where only the captain remained. Mercury had vanished from the view, leaving only the intensely bright sun. Harry was still invisible, and so what happened next caught him off guard.

"Quite the sight, isn't it?" Kaneda turned around to face Harry, wearing a neutral face. "How did you come to be on my ship?"

"It... it's a fantastic story, sir," Harry answered, dispelling his invisibility charm.

"The short version, if you would."

"What do you know about magic?"

"Up to now, I would tell you you're full of shit. After seeing whatever you just did to yourself, I don't know."

"Believe me, it is very real." Harry blew out a breath. "Forgive me for sounding frustrated, but I've had to explain myself more times than I would care to. Far worse when I'm having to ask forgiveness for intruding on your space."

"You still don't answer my question."

"There was a package left aboard your ship. I am simply collecting it."

"How? There's no way anything—" Kaneda challenged, but Harry simply held up the stack of parchment. "A very powerful wizard, more powerful than anyone I know—left this in your possession without your knowledge. Clearly, they knew who you were and where you were going. Otherwise we would have met long before now—or not at all."

"This... is most confusing."

"It's confusing even to me, sir. Last thing I want is to cause chaos. Seems instead, everything I touch blows up spectacularly."

"I'd rather you didn't, then." Kaneda gave a brief smile, then turned his gaze back toward the window. "Do you know why we're here?"

"No, sir."

"Our sun is dying. We left Earth eighteen months ago locked in eternal winter. Capa would be more able to explain the logistics, but to sum it up, we're on a mission to restart the sun... birth a star from a star." Harry arched an eyebrow. "_Datus Totalis," _he intoned, extending an index finger. "September 19, 2053" wafted from the end of it. "Bloody hell, fifty-eight years into the future."

"You are truly a wizard?"

"'And a thumpin' good one,' so says a friend of mine. Again, I am sorry I've intruded on things here. Had I been more careful, my visit wouldn't have happened. I'll only be here as long as it takes for me to find out how to get back. Somewhere in this stack of parchment is instructions on how to do it."

"You are able to simply will yourself from place to place? Even here?"

"Not quite. At least, not without help. There is a device which can do exactly that, but very few have access to it. Let me rephrase... right now, only I have access to it."

"Captain, we've looked—" Harry inwardly groaned. It was hot-head again, and he was giving Harry the dirtiest look he could manage.

"Everything's all right, Mace. This is Harry," Kaneda announced.

"I see. So you're the fucker I should blame for this." Mace held out his bandaged hand.

"I'm sorry," Harry instantly apologized. Last thing he'd wanted was for someone to get hurt, and once again, that's exactly what happened.

"Well? How'd you get here, a gazillion miles from home?"

"Hold out your hand."

"What? What for? What's this—" Mace felt somewhere between furious and confused.

"I said, hold out your hand."

"Mace... just do it."

"Fine." Mace glared at Harry, then held out his bandaged hand. Harry gestured at it and banished the bandages, revealing what looked like severe burns.

"What happened?"

"Dropped a wrench in the coolant." Another glare at the stranger.

"This is likely gonna sting. Episkey!"

A searing-hot pain raced through Mace's hand, and then... it was gone. It was as if the injury hadn't occurred in the first place. It was like... "Magic," Mace spoke, mostly to himself.

"I don't plan to be here longer than I have to. Once I figure out how to get back where I belong... and it has to be in here somewhere."

Mace crossed his arms. "The system wasn't meant to support nine people here."

"No need to worry about that." Harry again gestured to his face, replacing the bubble-head charm. Mace actually did a double-take, but gave a stiff nod. The situation was certainly not his fault, getting bent out of shape about it wouldn't help matters any.

"Come back to the mess hall, you can borrow a table," Kaneda suggested.

"Great. I actually spent a good part of the morning there." Another smug look from Mace. "I know your computer spotted me. Got two close friends who've warned me about electronic detection. Magic doesn't seem to work against that sort of thing."

"It's about two things," said Mace, "Our bodies give off heat, right? Then there's the spatial scanners. I dunno if your magic can hide your body heat or not, but you can't ever fool the spatial scanners. Your body takes up space and it can detect it."

"Right. I mean, absolute worst-case-scenario, I could just cause a backlash of magical energy. My friend Zack compares that sort of thing to an EMP." Both Mace and Kaneda looked horrified at the notion, and Harry had to back-peddle rather quickly. "Not that I'd ever do that here... Merlin's pants!"

"Yeah... um... please don't."

The walk back to the mess hall was silent from there on out. Both Mace and Kaneda realized this wizard was a force to be reckoned with, and best to leave him to his own thing. Neither of them wanted to ask any more questions out of fear for the answers he might give them. After all, the entire notion of magic was an alien thing for both men.

Entering the mess hall, they found the younger crew member once again seated at one of the booths, scribbling out notes on a page of paper. Other papers were scattered across the table, and he was oblivious to anything else going on around him.

"Capa?" The guy didn't seem to hear. The captain tried again, and this time he looked up. His eyes immediately locked on Harry.

"Fucking unbelievable." He stated bluntly. "Where've you been hiding this past eighteen months?"

"I've not been here that long, but my story's just as fantastic. I'm Harry."

"Capa."

"Again I find myself apologizing. Had all of you hunting for me this morning, when you likely had better things to do."

"So. How'd you get here?"

"I'll explain, but first let me show you." Instantly, Harry's clone appeared.

"What the hell?" Capa was staring, wide-eyed at the identical twins now standing in front of him. Kaneda and Mace were equally stunned, the latter looking about ready to pass out.

"Here. Start leafing through this shit, see if you can get us back to the... well... whatever the hell that room was that landed us here." Harry shoved the stack of parchment at his clone. The clone took the papers, and sat down at another booth.

"How... how... what are you?" Capa at last managed. He was actually shaking from what he'd just witnessed. Harry felt around in his pocket, and found what he was looking for: a calming draught. "Here. It'll make you feel better."

"What is it?"

"Calming draught. A potion, it'll help you to calm down." Capa snatched the vial, popped the cork, and downed the contents. His face was priceless.

"Gah, tastes like rotten socks."

"My mate Matt compares it to burnt socks, but close enough." Harry sat across from Capa. "I'm a wizard. I can do magic." Capa only nodded dumbly at this point. The logical side of his brain was having great trouble accepting what he'd just witnessed, but the proof was in the pudding... as sure as the stranger's doppelganger sat on the opposite side of the room, reading through a stack of parchment. Mace, too, seemed to be struck dumb by this blatant display of magic, and sat down himself. "You got any more of those potions?"

"Here." Harry slid another vial over. Mace accepted it without hesitation. After all, it would be degrading to not accept something from the wizard, since Capa had already done so. He downed its contents, and did his best to cover up his immense displeasure at the taste. Capa had aptly described it... rotten socks.

Kaneda at last found his tongue. "As fascinating as this is, I have to be on the flight deck. These guys can find me if need be."

"If I don't see you again, it was nice meeting you, sir. And thanks."

"For?"

"Being so... err... cool with me being here."

"Not your fault, nothing I could do about it, am I right?"

"Very true." Harry offered a hand, and the captain shook it.

"Good luck, Harry." With that, Kaneda left the mess hall.

It was several minutes before Harry came out of his daze. He gestured at the table with his hand, conjuring up a tea service. "Care for some tea?"

"For real?"

"Of course. Naturally, conjuration is pretty advanced magic, not many can do it, but as my friends tell me, I'm no ordinary wizard," Harry explained, as he fixed himself a cup of tea. A container of biscuits had also been conjured, and Capa snatched one—Harry had to grin, understanding the absence of many creature comforts on the ship, which likely extended to their diet.

"Oi. What about me?" the clone complained.

"You can fix it yourself," Harry answered.

Capa took a bite of his biscuit, and leaned back in his seat. "So, is he completely autonomous, or do you have control of him while he's... well..."

"Completely separate," answered the clone, "Y'know, Harry, we should get one of Norm's computer pads and record all this shit. It'd save repeating ourselves." He was then fixing his own tea.

"He has all of my memories up to the time he was created. Anything he does after, I get them when he's destroyed or dispelled."

"Woah. Now that must be a trippy feeling."

"Uncomfortable, more like it. The longer he exists, the more uncomfortable it is when we merge."

Mace at last gave in to the temptation, and was then making himself a cup of tea, dosing it with several teaspoons of sugar. "What?"

"Care for some tea with your sugar, mate?"

"Fuck off."

"Right, then." Harry only grinned, letting his fifteen-year-old self assert itself for a bit.

"Anyway." The clone returned to his table. "Still going through this, but God, the detail is awesome. The typewriter-like device can be coupled to that mantle-clock, or the temporal control unit. Each of the cylinders, they're power cells."

"Figured that much," Harry agreed, "The power radiating from them was intoxicating, even after we put damping fields on them."

"There's still a frame we need to find. Look at this." The clone shuffled a page of parchment over.

"Looks like a sort of spider's web," said Capa, looking over Harry's shoulder.

"But do we need it? I mean, the device did get us here, and the trip was better than usual."

"How do you usually 'arrive'?" Mace dared ask, as he helped himself to one of the biscuits.

"On my arse. I've had bones broken, my back broken, cuts, lacerations, a concussion, nearly poisoned by alien atmosphere... shot at—scratch that, actually shot, nearly died... shall I go on?"

"Damn. How come you're not dead yet?"

"Ask the Great Mother," the clone muttered.

"Kaneda said we had a visitor. Thought he was joking." Harry looked toward the entrance, to see a woman he'd not seen before.

"Harry, this is Cassie. She's the pilot," Capa introduced, while the pair of them shook hands.

"If you're down here, who's flying the ship?" Harry smirked. He of course knew the answer, and Cassie realized at once the stranger was only yanking on her chain. "Care for a biscuit?"

"Kaneda said you were special. Where'd the food come from?"

"You won't believe it," said Mace, shaking his head. The guy was still having problems believing what he was seeing, after all.

It was more of the same as the day wore on. By the time dinner time rolled around, he'd met all eight members of the Icarus II. They were a unique sort of family, and it made sense, given the extraordinary length of time together in isolation. Having someone new to talk to was a break in routine, a reprieve from the monotony of things.

Unfortunately for Harry, the event was just one more blunder in a long list of unintentional disruptions due to the device in his possession—the Temporal Displacement Device. It had caused over a half-dozen temporal boundary invasions—what the documentation termed it. Invasion was right.

Feeling he did owe them something for their hospitality, Harry offered to produce dinner. It was naturally accepted, and for the first time in months, everyone had more than their fill of their favourite dishes. It was again rewarding for him to see his magic used for the good of others.

At the same time, he lamented the fact he could not be with his mates. He'd only just got Cedric back. Once again, they were separated, and this only made him resent the devices even further. With that in mind, he hurriedly ate, banished the dishes, and returned to his crash-course on the temporal displacement device.

Next thing he knew, he was being gently shaken awake.

"Harry? C'mon, come get some rest. You can borrow a bed in medical." It was the burly African American named Searle. He was both the doctor and the ship's psychiatrist.

"Err... sure." Sleep was perhaps a good thing. He pressed a finger to the button on his radio collar. "Matt, Bill?"

"Harry." Came Bill's voice, with Matt's coming almost at the same time.

"Looks like I'm staying put for a while longer. Thoughts are with you guys always. Look out for Cedric, tell him I send my love."

"I'll see if Norm's got another collar for Cedric," came Jake's voice.

"Thank you, my brother."

"You can talk to your friends even from here?"

"Even from here. The collars are magically enhanced so they'll work anywhere."

Searle looked envious. "Damn, they'd sure come in handy around here sometimes." Harry answered before thinking. "I'll leave this one with you guys. You need anything, I'll see what I can do—I can get a replacement."

The offered bed reminded him too much of the hospital wing back at Hogwarts, and his brain refused to park itself for the night, so many issues flaring to the forefront, so he ended up consuming a dreamless sleep potion. When he woke up only a few hours later, he wasted little time returning to his lengthy study, borrowing a table once again in the crew's mess. A time check revealed it was a little after four in the morning.

This time, it was not long before Harry located the passage he needed, describing the method which would return him to the device interior.

_Returning to the temporal hub._

_Retracto (nv): Before using the incantation, allow the image of the hub to fill your mind. Like apparition, you must have a firm picture of this before the incantation will work. A jab toward yourself with your wand (or a finger if you are skilled in wandless magic), and let the word join in the picture you now have in your mind, retracto. This will return you to the temporal hub._

_Circulus Retracto: This incantation can be used to port you and a group to the temporal hub. The broader the circle, the more may be collected by it. Be warned, this will work on anyone in your immediate vacinity, including those who may wish you harm. Speak 'Circulus', make a circle with your wand (or hand, should you be skilled in wandless magic), and finish with 'Retracto'. This will return you as well as the group inside the cast circle to the temporal hub._

Harry blew out a breath he realized he was holding, then reached back and un-clipped the radio collar from around his neck. A pen was scavenged from a nearby table, along with a sheet of paper. A hastily scrawled note was left, along with the radio collar. He then stood, and collected the stack of papers. He'd made a few new friends over the past twenty or so hours, but he had much bigger fish to fry, and it was time to go home. Quickly envisioning the circular chamber, he whispered, "_Retracto_". He failed to see a hand come to rest on his shoulder as he did so, and not one, but two individuals Disapparated from the Icarus, with a noisy CRACK.

_AUTHOR NOTES: I know, this movie came out nearly five years ago, but only now did I get to see it. It's given me some new inspiration on how to handle a few things. I daresay, there will be a rather explosive ending to a few things, and the Icarus II's payload has provided both the way and the means. I should also warn, that naturally, there WILL be character deaths, most of them canon. Additionally, there are spoilers for SUNSHINE. You haven't seen the movie, just beware._


	49. A Crippling Blow

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted February 23, 2012._

* * *

**-CHAPTER 48-**

**A CRIPPLING BLOW**

**Or, consequences make themselves felt**

* * *

The pair landed in the middle of the sphere, and Harry was surprised to find it was like landing on a bed of feathers, rather than the hard ground. The images were again swirling around him, although the image of the Icarus was pulled away from the rest. Equally, a second window was lined up directly beside it, this one now showing the interior of the trunk. Home, Harry realized.

"Fucking hell." Harry did a double take, realizing he'd accidentally brought a passenger. Mace was staring wide-eyed at the room around him.

"Merlin's pants!"

"Up to now... I was still not completely convinced. Now... you've sold me."

"And I didn't mean to bring you back here. I swore up and down no more strays—"

"Hey!"

"I mean, not that I didn't enjoy your company, but you don't belong here. Just like I didn't belong in your world. C'mon, let's get you back to the Icarus II. Take my hand."

"Sure." Mace was completely sold at this point, and so took the offered hand. Harry reached up to touch the picture of Icarus II, but it zoomed away from him.

"Great. Just great. I don't have time for FUCKING GAMES, ASSHOLES!" Harry roared, trying to snatch back the picture. Instead, another portrait slammed into his outstretched hand. He instinctively let go of Mace's hand, and as expected, was sucked into the picture. Mace only stood there, mouth agape. 'That did NOT just happen,' was his only thought.

Harry returned a few minutes later, looking like he'd been attacked by a pack of wild dogs. He had a strange cylinder tucked under his arm, and he looked about ready to murder someone.

"C-c-c'mon, we're going back to my house for a minute. G-g-get patched up, maybe explode a few heads in the process." Harry offered a hand again, and Mace cautiously accepted it. Even he could feel the angry waves of energy rolling off the young wizard. This was definitely someone he would want to stay on the good side. Harry reached up, and touched the portrait showing the room. They again vanished, with an even louder CRACK.

"Harry? Merlin's beard, what happened to you?" Sirius had been in the common room, and had just finished a floo call.

"R-r-run-in with a pack of wolves. D-didn't appreciate me intruding their den."

"Who's this?"

"Right. Sirius, Mace. Mace, this is Sirius, my godfather." The pair shook hands, while Harry dispatched his clone into the bedroom. He was determined to limit Mace's exposure to his world as much as he could, and so no summoning one of the house-elves. "Mace isn't staying long, since I now know how to get him back where he belongs. Same as Lucas and his family."

"You unlocked the strange devices you've been collecting."

"Finally this morning."

"He was studying all those papers he has with him all yesterday," Mace threw in.

"Unlocking the hub was a large piece of the puzzle. Still need some time to read the rest of the notes... it's like finally receiving the manual. It should have been included with the product up front." Harry glanced up at the clock. It was going on seven, meaning breakfast would be out soon.

"Harry? Gods, what happened?" Cedric looked gravely concerned, rushing over to be with his mate. His clone followed moments after, along with Bill and Matt.

"Stand still," the clone ordered, and began casting healing charms.

Mace simply stood back, his mind in total overdrive. Clearly they were all wizards, and the energy about was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was borderline intoxicating. Mace knew, however, his place wasn't there. Harry was right. He belonged back on the Icarus II, a place where things made more sense. Even seeing it with his own eyes, the idea of magic was alien to him, an abstract concept outside of his realist process. He certainly felt no ill toward Harry and his friends, but he certainly felt out of place, a fish out of water.

"That should do," said the clone.

"Merge, then."

"Cheerio." The clone vanished, and Harry momentarily winced at the influx of memories, although they were brief.

"Okay. I'm returning Mace where he belongs. Bill, I need your collar."

"Where's yours?"

"Left it on the Icarus II."

"What the hell for? Harry, they shouldn't know about us in the first place!" Bill scolded, as he removed his radio.

"No time for arguments." Harry clipped the collar back on. "I wonder—"

BANG. The entire trunk shook, and the flames in the fireplace roared black for a moment. Mace did a double-take. Flames DO NOT turn black, right? A second loud BANG was heard, along with the slamming of several heavy doors.

"And there go the wards. AGAIN." Bill muttered.

"Accio map," Harry intoned, summoning the larger map he'd created over the summer. He activated it, then gave it a quick glance. No, the problem wasn't in Pandora. A problem at Hogwarts, then? He summoned the smaller map, and activated it.

"What is that?" Mace dared ask.

"It's a map of Hogwarts, the school I go to."

"Harry, look." Matt put a finger on a label circling about the Gryffindor common room. Harry was not surprised to find it labelled 'Delores Umbridge'.

"She's trying to breach the door."

"And she's got company. Dots with no names."

"That could only mean... unspeakables. Harry! The door that connects to it in here, you need to destroy it. Now!" Sirius barked.

"Got it." Harry drew his wand sharply, and directed it at a door in the nearby hallway. "_REDUCTO_!" A red blast of magic erupted from the end of his wand, and the door splintered into thousands of tiny fragments. Mace was astounded, as the wreckage simply fell off the wall, leaving the space behind it unblemished.

"Even getting rid of the connection, they may still be able to trace it. Harry, you really need to be elsewhere. We'll see to things here," said Sirius.

"No, I'll—"

"Harry, go! Take your friend back where he belongs. Last thing we need is for the ministry to get hold of you. You can't fulfil your destiny locked away in Azkaban."

"I'm coming with," Cedric decided, but Harry shook his head. "No, no one's coming along. Get a message to Dumbledore. Don't care how. Cedric and Matt, take anyone non-magical to Hell's Gate for the day. Bill... help protect things here if you need to... get whatever help you need... but be careful... For fuck's sake, all of you be careful."

Mace watched as each of Harry's mates said good bye. The four of them obviously loved each other. Sure, Mace had feelings for others, but decided that sort of thing was frivolous, and unnecessary for the job he had to do. Even being friends was... something far less important in his process.

"Right. Let's go." Harry gripped Mace by the shoulder, and the pair vanished, to reappear practically an instant later back in the device hub. At that instant, a stranger's voice came over Harry's radio. "Harry?"

"Kaneda?"

"Is Mace with you?"

"Yes sir. We're coming back to the Icarus soon as I can find the right picture. Bear with me."

"Picking up more passengers, are we, Harry?" came Jiro's voice.

"Shut it, Jiro. It was an accident," Harry muttered, mostly to himself, while he searched through the endless stream of images for the one with Icarus II on it.

"An accident, I don't blame you for it," said Kaneda, "But we've got a little bit of a problem and I do need my engineer back."

"Harry? What's wrong with the trunk?" came Fred's voice.

"Umbridge attacked it again. She brought Unspeakables into the school, so stay away. Or yet... guys, go find Professor Dumbledore. They break into the trunk, we're fucked royally. And someone collect the artifacts. Take them to Hell's Gate."

"Already got that covered, Cub," came Remus' voice.

"Harry, get yourself to a secure location," Sirius ordered.

"Captain, you mind having a guest for a few hours?"

"We could use your help."

"Harry. There." Mace pointed at a frame that was fast approaching. Harry reached out and pulled it forward. The image had changed slightly, as the sun looked a little bigger than it had hours earlier. It was truly astounding how fast the Icarus II was travelling.

"Ready?" Mace only gripped Harry's shoulder, and the pair of them vanished into the frame.

An ear-piercing alarm assaulted Harry's senses as they reappeared in the airlock.

"Great. What the hell is that?"

"Come on!" Mace grabbed Harry about the shoulder, and the pair of them took off through the narrow corridors. They arrived minutes later to the flight deck. Kaneda arrived a moment later. "What's going on?"

"I screwed up!" Trey, the crew member responsible for navigation answered. His face said it all: he was mortified.

"It's not you that screwed up. Icarus, silence the alarm."

"Yes, captain." The alarm was instantly silenced.

"I'm responsible. In order to change the route I had to manually override Icarus. So I made a whole of calculations myself. And I double and triple checked them. They all worked out. So, I set the new coordinates and put us on our way." He wrung his hands, and looked about ready to bang his head against a wall.

"Here." Harry fished out another calming draught from his pockets, and pushed it into Trey's hands.

"What is it?"

"Make you feel better."

"I don't WANT to feel better!" Trey protested.

"It's either that or I stun you," Harry insisted. Trey consumed the potion, and like the others, gagged at the awful taste. The effect was practically immediate, as he felt a calming sensation wash over him. He nodded appreciatively.

"Feel better now?"

"Thank you."

"Now what's the problem? The trajectory's wrong?"

"No, the trajectory's good. But it changes our approach to the sun by one-point-one degrees," Trey explained. Capa understood at once. "You didn't reset the shields to the new angle."

"Jesus Christ, Trey," said Harvey, the ship's communications officer and second in command.

"That's not helping. Stop blaming each other. Is your ship damaged?" Harry questioned.

"Even better, why the fuck did we change course in the first place?" Mace questioned, crossing his arms.

"We're making a little detour first. We've picked up a distress beacon from the Icarus I," Kaneda explained.

"Right. And in doing so, jeopardize the entire reason we're out here in the first place. Whose brainy idea was it? Yours?" Mace cast a hateful look at Capa.

"Guys! Not helping!" Harry snapped, "Stop behaving like ickle firsties!" That earned an evil glare from Mace.

"He's right," Kaneda agreed, "The fact is we are still alive. A hole hasn't burned in the side of the ship. We don't have a ten-thousand degree climate, so what's the actual damage?"

"We don't know. Icarus tried to reset the shields independently when the alarm went off but all the sensors are burnt out," said Harvey.

"So the only way we know is if we go out there," Mace summed up.

"Okay. I'll get suited up."

"It's a two-man job, captain."

"And as second in command, you're not going anywhere." It was an order.

"I volunteer," Trey spoke up, but Mace cut in saying, "No, I volunteer."

"Fine."

"I volunteer Capa."

"Sure. I'll do it," said Capa, getting up. It was Harry's turn to cast a hateful glare at Mace. Mace actually shivered, realizing he had just earned the young wizard's ire.

"Wait." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out two galleons. "_Portus_." He intoned, while thinking of the present location. "If things go pear-shaped, think 'Back to Harry'. It'll pull you straight back here."

"Sort of like when we went to that weird room?" Mace guessed.

"Exactly like that. It's a port key. You have to put on heavy gear to go outside, right?"

"Yes, most definitely. Come this way," said Kaneda, leading Harry and Capa away from the flight deck. Mace stood rooted to the spot for a moment, then quickly caught up.

"Put the coin in the palm of your hand before you put gloves on. Remember, the activation phrase will work at any time, so don't use it unless you need to."

"Simple enough."

"Capa. Here. You'll need it, you're shaking like a leaf, mate." Harry held out another calming draught, which the young physicist accepted without hesitation. "Captain?"

"No, I will be well without it."

"Only have a couple left."

"How do you keep so many things in your pockets?" Kaneda questioned.

"Expansion charms, and shrinking charms," Harry explained. Most of what you see is wandless and non-verbal. When I'm looking for something I have to summon it and resize it."

"Fascinating. The possibilities are endless!" Capa was finally coming to understand the implications of their visitor.

They stepped into the airlock, the place at which Harry had landed the first time he found himself on the ship. Cassie was already there, pulling gear out from their stowed locations against a wall. Mace immediately set out to help, as both Kaneda and Capa started putting on an inner layer for additional protection.

The suits themselves were something that might have been produced in the magical world, at least by appearance. They were borderline scary. Harry grimaced at the thought of having to put one of those on.

"These things look terrifying to actually have to wear."

"You get used to it after a while," answered Kaneda, as Mace helped him into one of them. Cassie was helping Capa into his—the guy looked much calmer than he had been a few minutes earlier. The calming draught had exactly the intended effect.

Harry made sure both men had their port keys in their hands before putting their gloves on—he had a bad feeling about this particular job, and every part of him hoped it was just that—a bad feeling. However, he knew how things usually ended up. He was starting to care for these people. Just as he cared for Jake and Tsu'tey, Matt and his friends, Zachariah, and somewhat, Jiro... whether he wanted it or not, these incursions into other spaces and times left an impact, for better or for worse.

"C'mon, let's get back up to the flight deck," said Cassie. She gave Capa's gloved hand a squeeze, and was gone.

"Good luck guys, and don't forget, shit hits the fan, use your port keys." Seeing Mace was about to follow Cassie, he simply grabbed his shoulder, and the pair of them vanished with a soft POP.

They reappeared on the flight deck, and Mace had to once again regain his bearings.

"So want to hit you right now. For fuck's sake, at least warn me before you do that!"

"What'd he do this time?" questioned Harvey.

"He, I dunno, grabbed my shoulder next thing I know we're here."

"Apparated," Harry explained. Cassie arrived just then and hurried to a seat at the flight controls, already flipping switches and pressing buttons on the consoles in front of her. "Okay, Icarus. I'm gonna be taking control over here for a little while."

"Okay, Cassie."

"I'm gonna be cutting speed and I'm gonna be rotating us so the damage is facing away from the sun. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Cassie." Harry moved out of the way and watched, as the crew took their places. Mace took the seat beside Cassie. Harvey was studying a computer model of the ship.

"If we rotate by that much we're gonna lose comm towers three and four."

"Well, it's a good thing we don't need them, then," said Mace, without emotion.

Harvey looked apprehensive, watching the computer model. A section was extending into a bright yellow zone and turned red—likely the appendage they were talking about. "We don't need them now but we're gonna need them to go home."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime I'm gonna try to give them as much shadow as I can," answered Cassie, evenly.

"All right, guys, I'm opening up," said Mace, as he activated a set of switches on his console.

Harry simply stood back, listening to the chatter going on between the crew, as they set out to repair the damaged heat shield. He weighed the idea of giving everyone port keys. They had all been more than kind to him, so why not return the favour? The answer came straight back at him. Much like he was locked in a destiny to destroy Voldemort, this group of people were all here for a reason. They had a job to do. Interfering in it was not his place. In a way, he'd already done too much. Then again, he had offered help, and they had accepted.

The ship's alarms sounded again, complaining about the now destroyed communications towers, and Cassie immediately silenced them. Harry only looked up briefly, having dug out the stack of parchment again, choosing to pick up where he had been reading.

_Forced Teleportation: Sending Others to the Chamber or Hub_

_This can be cast at a distance. Without knowing anything about the target, the range is limited to 956 cubits-_

"What?" Harry pressed a finger to his radio set. "Hey guys. Anyone know what a cubit is?"

"A what?" came Jake's answer. A few others answered with similar comments.

"Very old measurement," came a much more local answer, courtesy of Trey. "A cubit was used in ancient times, right up until the end of the Ottoman Empire in 1916. It's point two-five-three meters, or roughly the length of one's forearm(1)."

"Thanks. Never mind, got the answer." He released the finger from his throat piece. "Nine-hundred fifty-six cubits."

"Four hundred, nintey-nine meters repeating," Trey answered, getting a blank look from Harry. He at last grinned, and returned to his reading.

_-limited to 956 cubits, and visual sight is necessary. Firmly focused on your target, holding the image of the hub in your mind, speak the phrase 'extra retracto'. It is similar to casting it on yourself, except that in this case, you are casting it on someone else. This spell may also be done through touch, although that may be redundant._

_For someone who is known to you, the range is virtually limitless. However, there are two firm rules in place. You must know the person personally. The type of relationship does not matter, only the fact you have made some sort of connection with the individual in question, whether it be positive, or negative. Secondly, the spell will only work on the version of the person you know. It is not possible to cast this on the same person in a different dimensional construct, as you do not know that version._

_Having the person firmly affixed in your mind, speak the words, "Intro Retracto". Like the previous spell, this will send the person instantly into the hub. It is not recommended you leave an individual in the hub unsupervised, unless control access is restricted. See the section: "Hub controls" for details about how to configure controls._

Harry flipped the papers back over, looking at the front. Sure enough, there was a new heading. It was as though the book were forcing him to discover things on his own. He mentally cursed the individual who assembled it, and flipped to the correct section.

_The Frames: Windows to Other Constructs_

_Each image being shown in the hub is a window into a different temporal container, which contains its own time stream. Every time stream is different, and it must be clearly stated, a given time stream may operate faster or slower than that you may be used to. What may seem like only seconds in your own dimensional construct, may stretch on for days in another._

_Entering a different construct is as simple as touching the image itself. You will land as close as logically possible to the location shown in the image. Returning is covered in more detail in the section labelled "Returning to the Temporal Hub"._

_With a window focused, it is then possible to further control the where and when you are actually seeing. Simply touching the string of numbers at the bottom of the window reveal the advanced console, which will let you fine-tune what you are looking at, and equally important, the particular moment in time in that dimensional construct-_

Harry was pulled out of his reading by a collective cheer from the astronauts he'd tuned out for the past while.

"Great job," said Mace.

"They fixed it?"

"One down, but it's do-able." Mace turned around and smiled at Trey. "Hey... Don't kill yourself, man. We got this, okay?" He'd no sooner got the words out of his mouth, when the entire ship began to shake, much like it had not long before. Icarus II was changing position again.

"What's going on, guys! Cassie, the ship's moving," came Kaneda's voice.

"Shit! I think we're venting O2!" declared Corazon, the only other female astronaut, responsible for the ship's oxygen garden and life support systems. She was fixed on her own console on the opposite side of the room.

"Resuming computer control of Icarus II," came the voice of the computer, in its cold, uncaring tone. Harry understood at once what was at stake.

"Negative, Icarus. Manual control," Cassie answered, firmly.

"Negative, Cassie, computer control. Returning vessel to original rotation."

"WHAT?" It was Mace's turn to be upset.

"Icarus, override computer to manual control."

"Negative, mission in jeopardy. Override command statement to manual control removed," came the computer's voice.

"Why?" Mace demanded. 'Malfunction?' Harry wondered, already thinking very carefully of the information he'd just read. If this ship was about to go up in flames, he wasn't sticking around, and under no circumstance was he leaving anyone behind.

"Negative, Icarus, negative! State reason immediately!"

"Fire in oxygen garden."

"NO!" Came Corazon's strangled cry.

"Point me, now!" Harry shouted.

"This way!"

The pair of them flew through the tunnels, as the panicked voices carried over the internal communications systems. Cassie and Kaneda were having a heated debate about retreating back to the air lock. But the fire was more important. They arrived at a section of frosted wall.

"Stand still a minute." Harry gestured at Corazon's face, and cast a bubble-head charm, along with a strong shielding charm.

"I'm gonna vanish the glass and fill the room with water. Understand?"

"Just hurry. It's..."

"I know." Harry produced his clone.

"Two wands are better than one. Water or foam?"

"Better thought. Transfigure the air into carbon dioxide. It would kill the fire in a heartbeat, right?"

"Makes sense." Harry looked back behind him to make sure the door was sealed. It was. "Right. Ready?" Corazon gave a nod, and the twins gestured sharply with their wands. A panel of glass vanished, and a thick cloud of smoke immediately filled the small corridor. Another gesture and it was vanished, along with the rest of the smoke in the room. Corazon couldn't see exactly what they'd done, but the fire indeed suffocated within a matter of seconds.

Unfortunately the damage was still extensive, with over half the garden destroyed.

"Once it's safe for me to return to my home, I'll bring back a selection of plants to replace what was damaged.

"I don't know what to say... you're a life-saver, more than you'll ever know, Harry." Harry only reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's what a friend does, right? Ask if we're still venting O2."

"We still venting O2?" Corazon asked.

"Negative. Whatever you did, it worked," came Cassie's voice. Harry gave a sharp nod, then spelled the missing panel back in place. "Right. Back to the flight deck, or staying here?"

"I will be staying... We have to start somewhere."

"I will stay and help," offered the clone.

Minutes later, he entered the flight deck. The drama was clearly not over.

"Ninety four percent of shield in full sunlight," Icarus droned. Harry could see the activity on the monitor in front of Mace. On one side, Kaneda was grappling with some sort of mechanism on the backside of the enormous panel still stuck in the open position.

"Captain, it's Capa." Capa's view showed exactly what Kaneda was doing at least from his point of view.

"You must leave now."

"Captain!"

"Ninety seven percent of shield in full sunlight."

"Final panel closing, the shield is secure."

"Guys! Get the hell out of there!" Mace insisted. The pair of them turned around, making for the edge of the giant heat shield. 'Why don't they use their coins?' he shouted in his head.

It was like watching a train wreck about to happen. Ugly as it was, it was like a flame to a moth. Of course it made perfect sense in a way. Capa refused to leave Kaneda behind, and it was actually as things should be. They looked out for one another. Once again, Harry found himself sending up a prayer to the Great Mother. "Don't let them die."

They moved with snail-like slowness toward the edge of the heat shield, the sun's deadly rays gaining on them with every step. And then... A whirl of shiny metal, and the two astronauts landed in a heap on the floor of the flight deck.

"Oh my god!" Trey was the first to notice it. One of them was missing his leg, about mid-way down the shin. The edge of the suit was still smoking, and a terrible scream filled the room. Harry wasted no time banishing the ruined suit, and stunning the man inside.

"Fuck me sideways," Mace said, staring at their now crippled captain. Harry was already kneeling beside him, as was Searle.

"Fuck, we've got some pretty decent medical equipment, but nothing to fix this."

"I can do a little. Not re-grow his foot, but I can make him comfortable and stabilize him." He was already using his wand to close up the severed veins and arteries, while the others looked on. Capa was still in his suit, but Trey had pulled off the helmet and gloves. The Chinese man was clearly not doing well, seeing this unfold before his eyes, and also considering he still blamed himself for starting the events unfolding in the first place.

"You've had to do this before," Searle stated. It was not a question.

"More times than I can count. In the last days of... In the last battles I was involved in... if this was a friend, I wouldn't bother. Sounds cold, but... toward the end... they were better off dead. I have much blood on my hands."

"But he can live without his foot!" Cassie protested, but Mace only nodded. "All about the mission."

"Something like. But a better example. Let's say, this was the end of a fight. The bad guys are gone, but... there are many more of them than there are us. Kaneda here has information the other side wants. Information that would guarantee my capture, torture, and death, but more importantly, the other side's victory. He's already whispering in my ear... 'Kill me, Harry.' What do you do?"

"NO! It wouldn't be right!" Capa was incensed by the suggestion.

"Who said anything about right?" Harry responded, as he continued to banish the blood from the floor and clean up the horrible injury.

"But, who... what right do you have taking someone's life—even if they're asking for it?"

"Because it's all about the mission, Capa. He was expendable, just like we are," Mace answered, "Sounds cold, but all of us... all of us here know that's the shit of it. The only thing that counts is the mission."

"Exactly. Here and now I'm not suggesting we get rid of him-" Harry gestured to their prone captain, "-but in the end, even though it tore my heart to shreds, the guy was right. His death... ensured I survived. He smiled at me when I cast the killing curse." He sent a quick message to his clone, 'Return to the flight deck a moment.'

"What kind of mission was it for you?" Mace dared ask.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...(2)_" Harry quoted, "My fate. My mission. What infuriates me—"

"You needed me?" questioned the clone.

"Help Searle get Kaneda into the medical bay. We've had an incident."

"An incident? Bloody hell." The clone surveyed the carnage, then levitated the unconscious captain.

"I'll... just follow you then," said Searle, once again surprised at Harry's magical ability.

Harry watched his clone leave with the doctor, and blew out a breath.

"Could... someone help me out of this thing?" Capa finally spoke up. Harry simply gestured with a hand, banishing the bulky suit.

"Where does it go?"

"Back where it belongs, of course," Harry answered. He gestured again, and Capa felt like he'd just had a hot shower and a change of clothes. His admiration for Harry's abilities just went up a notch. He cracked an honest smile, and Harry grinned right back.

"Fuck, that was close though. They could have died," Mace admitted, getting up. "Harry, you're amazing." He clapped the young wizard on the back.

"Glad I could help."

"So about your mission..."

"Right. As I was saying. It was one thing to have that sort of destiny heaped on my shoulders as it was. Now imagine having to do it all over again."

"For real?" Mace arched an eyebrow.

"For real. Everyone who died the last time... died for nothing. Because someone wanted to send me on some cosmic treasure hunt, and make my sound like a fucked up broken record that should be stored in the room of hidden things at Hogwarts... gah, I so want to strangle those old farts with their own beards. Imagine, you carry out your mission... deliver your package, get back to earth, and you're told, 'Woops, we made a boo-boo, you have to go back and do it again.'"

"Yeah, I'd be pissed, too."

"I did my job already. I punched my ticket, expecting to see mum and dad. Instead, I'm sent hurdling backward in time, back into my fourteen-year-old body. I was twenty-five."

Mace only shook his head. "Definitely not astronaut material, Harry."

"Fuck, how are you even sane?" asked Capa.

"Yeah, I'd like to know, too. Point being, I have to do everything again, and on top of it, there's the strange devices I've been forced to collect. Every place I've been with one exception, has resulted in chaos of some sort... just a little while ago being a glaring example."

"Now that's bullshit. Don't blame yourself for shit that happens here. Shit, if anything, you saved our asses today in more ways than one," said Mace, "Fuck, had that fire burned out of control, we would have lost the oxygen garden altogether. Hell, the oxygen tanks could have blown up, taking us with it. Point is, we all owe you." Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, knowing Mace's words were true. He bowed his head, knowing he had just collected another eight life-debts. How many was that now? One was too many, never mind the dozen or so.

His collar seemed to spring to life, shouts being heard on the other side. "EVERY AVAILABLE WAND INTO THE TRUNK, NOW!" A string of 'copy', and 'confirmed' answered followed. What the hell was going on?

"Bill?" Harry questioned.

"Stay where you are, Harry! I mean it!" came Sirius' voice, snapping harshly, while something exploded in the background. "Radio silence!"

"Merlin no," Harry whispered, as his fifteen-year-old self reasserted itself. Everyone he cared about was in grave danger. A simple word flashed into his mind: consequences.

"To hell with consequences!" Harry bellowed, making everyone jump. The world faded to white.

"You knew this sort of thing must happen eventually, Harry." The same lady stood before him, in white robes. Her face looked much older than before, but her voice had not lost its melodic form. Harry simply glared at the deity, but she continued, "Things have fallen out of balance. Although you have done so much, much more than we could have ever hoped, you have at the same time incurred a debt of your own, which we must regretfully collect on."

"I don't get a choice, at least?"

"I'm sorry, love, that is not how it works. Everything must balance in the end."

"What... what have I done?"

A scene flashed before his eyes, of only a few days before, when Mo'at and the clan helped Cedric to recover. "Please," he heard himself say, "Don't let him die." It was followed immediately after, by his words of only a short while earlier, pleading for the life of Kaneda and Capa.

"You must understand the power you wield. By forcibly overriding the will of the time stream, you incur a debt that must be paid later on."

"Is there a chance?"

"For no loss from your party? Perhaps, but the chances are most slim. You must see, this has to be done. I do feel your pain, Harry, and it does sadden me deeply to know the hurt this causes."

"I... I can't-" but the white world was already fading.

He found himself balled up on the floor of the Icarus II's flight deck. The crew members were each kneeling beside him, a look of concern on their faces.

"You all right?" Capa dared ask. Harry realized he was shaking, and attempted to sit up. He felt sick.

"C'mon, let's go see Searle," Cassie suggested, but Harry waved her off. He got into a sitting position, and finally stood up. "Just... going to the... where you guys eat." His mind was becoming cloudy, and he was feeling more and more detached. It was far easier to accept, perhaps. He felt someone grip his arm, and was somewhat bolstered by the offer, allowed Capa to lead him to the mess hall.

"I—I'll stay here," said Cassie, returning to her seat.

"Same here," Harvey added.

Harry barely registered sitting down. He was running on autopilot at this point. A calming draught was what he needed at this point, and he mentally groaned as he reached into his pocket. He'd given his last one to Capa. "Kreacher," he spoke, weakly, although he strongly doubted it would work.

Incredibly, through time, space, and dimensions, the little elf heard him, and appeared with a noisy POP. Ignoring the startled crew members around him, Harry smiled. It vanished as quickly as it came, seeing the grave look the elf had.

"Master Harry! Dark wizards, defiling the trunk, they are! Dobby is being injured. Master Sirius not well—Oh master..."

"Where is Sirius?"

"Kreacher did not see where they took him. Wesleys fighting them off, but wizards are strong." Harry instantly pressed the button on his radio. "Sirius?" No answer. "Sirius!"

"Harry, please. We're doing-"

"I want. To hear. From SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed. It seemed like everything in the room started quivering in place, in a raw display of magic.

"Harry? What... whatever you're doing, you gotta stop," Capa pleaded, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder. He yelped, snatching his hand back, as it felt like he'd gotten a nasty shock.

"Harry," Remus' voice came over the radio, "Just stay calm. We're working-" silence.

"R-remus?" Harry whimpered. He looked down to Kreacher. "Bill, Cedric, Matt... here. NOW." Kreacher didn't move.

"NOW, KREACHER!" Two chairs at the middle table overturned themselves, as the lights momentarily flickered. The elf gave Harry a cold look, then vanished with a loud CRACK.

"Harry. Stop it. Whatever you're doing-" Mace said, evenly.

"Fuck you."

"I said-" A glass jug on the small counter disintegrated into a million pieces.

WHACK. Harry didn't see it coming. The lights stopped flickering, the quivering objects lay still, and the room fell quiet.

"Fuck, Mace, did you have to hit him?"

"Whatever he was doing was a threat to the mission. Got it?"

"Right, the mission."

In the medical bay, Searle was startled, when Harry's clone vanished right before his eyes. Perhaps he 'popped away', as he did before. Or not. No, that made some sort of noise.

"Guys? Harry's clone vanished. He okay?"

"Got it in hand," answered Mace. Searle could hear the tone. Whatever happened wasn't good, but he had a more pressing patient to see to.

Back in the crew's mess, the others were still pondering the little creature they'd just seen when he returned with an equally noisy CRACK, bringing three others with him.

"Harry? What... Explain. Now." Mace, Trey, and Capa found themselves at wand-point, the tip of it actually glowing. The holder of the wand in some ways resembled Capa, other than the black shoulder-length hair, and a few other differences. He wore a sleeveless black tee-shirt, and a pair of snug-fitting jeans. The other also raised his wand. He was taller than the first wizard, with sandy brown hair and a chiseled jaw. The third had shoulder-length red hair, and the freckles to match. He also raised his wand to join the others'.

"Answer the bloody question, morons. Unless the lot of you would like to find out exactly why a Muggle should fear a wizard."

"He could have killed everyone aboard, all right! I had to knock him out and I'm sorry!" Mace huffed.

"Accidental magic?" The redhead suggested, to which the brown-haired wizard only nodded, and wands were quickly lowered.

"Guess it made sense. Fuck, Sirius... it's gonna destroy him."

"Where are we?" this from the sandy-haired wizard.

"The Icarus II, destined for the sun," Capa answered.

"Suicide mission?"

"Well, hopefully not, but if that's what it takes, that's what we gotta do," answered Mace, finally getting his centre back.

"Who's Sirius?" Trey dared ask. He himself was having difficulty coming to terms with things that had happened not long ago. Their captain lay incapacitated without his left foot, because of a lapse of concentration.

"Harry's godfather."

"Dead or alive?"

"Dead. Death eaters got him, twice. We patched him up the first time, but his own bloody cousin caught him with the killing curse."

"How the hell did it happen though? Death eaters within the Unspeakables themselves? Kreacher, go get us a whack of calming draughts, and dreamless sleep potions. You have Harry's Gringotts key, right?"

"Of course, master Matty." Kreacher bowed low, and popped away.

"At least they were prevented from getting to Pandora. Harry's gonna be wrecked as it is. The trunk's a disaster."

"The place I visited earlier," Mace assumed, to which Matt gave a sad nod.

"Guess some sort of introductions are in order. I'm Bill, this is Matt, and Cedric. We're Harry's mates, so sorry about the rude arrival... we just—"

"Protective, gotcha," said Mace, understanding at once. "I'm Mace. This is Cappa, and Trey."

"Harry's fucking amazing. Saved our asses twice today, easily," Capa threw in.

"It's how he is. Wants to help everyone... to save everyone." It was at that point that Harry regained consciousness. "Sirius?"

"Harry. It's okay," said Cedric, trying to reassure him. It wasn't working.

"Sirius? No. No, no, no," he moaned, and finally lost it. His cries could be heard throughout the ship.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So... magic in space... some may say yes, some may say no. I think magic is a form of energy, and even in the vacuum of space, I think it would still work._

_The balance is restored, at great cost. Given Sirius' death is canon, I won't say much more. But this sort of thing was coming, it had to happen eventually. Naturally, this will influence his future decisions, hmm? Just how, remains to be seen._

_(1) Research courtesy of Wikepedia._

_(2) Taken from p.741, "Order of the Phoenix", Canadian paperback edition._


	50. The Final Straw

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted February 23, 2012_

_I introduce yet another universe here, the incredible world of Skyrim. We won't be there long, but I should warn, there are spoilers here for the Thieves' Guild quest: "Speaking With Silence"._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

**-CHAPTER 49-**

**THE FINAL STRAW**

**Or, Harry finally reaches his limit with the artefacts**

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cedric, Matt, and Bill did their best to comfort their mate, but in the end were forced to stun him. Each of them knew what the death of Sirius meant. It was without a doubt a devastating blow.

"Magic three over," Matt heard in his earpiece. It was Norm.

"Magic three go ahead."

"Where's Harry?"

"Secure location."

"We had to destroy the trunk."

"Say what?"

"The... um... dark wizards, they were going for the container. Fred and George set off some kind of explosive."

"Worked brilliantly," George spoke up, the usual humour not present.

"We had no choice," Fred picked up, "Like Norm said, Death Eaters could have gotten into the container. Harry's relatives are at Hell's gate, along with everyone else at this point. Dumbledore's there too."

"Where is Owen, Justin, and Patrick?"

"Patrick took a nasty blasting curse to the leg, but he's recovering. They're at Hell's Gate."

"Good, good."

"Guys. We really need to get a better set-up so we can stay in touch," said Norm.

"Got something in mind?"

"Actually, we do," came Jiro's voice.

"Right. Last thing we need is your mouth here," Matt scowled.

"Shut up. Just trying to help."

"Guys! Not helping!" came Zachariah's exasperated voice.

"Sorry. But really."

"We could send some of our equipment along," said Norm, "That's if you have room."

"Hold on." Matt took his finger away from the radio collar. "I need a favour..."

Harry was moved to the medical bay and administered a heavy sleeping draught. Additional vials were left with Searle, with instructions to keep him sedated for the time being. While he slept, Jiro created a small room leading off the mess hall, much to the amazement of the Icarus II's crew. Careful questions had been asked about the wiring, so as not to interrupt anything vital. Immediately following, Norm was then brought through, along with Max. They brought with them a number of heavy cases. The Temporal Control Unit was also brought along, as well as the other pieces; each were stowed carefully.

"So do any of you know how this thing works, or-" Mace dared ask, as he watched Bill guiding one of the devices into a conjured chest.

"Just Harry. His burden."

"What'd he do with his notes? Maybe Capa might make something of it."

"No. Impossible," Bill answered, shaking his head, "It won't work for someone who's not magical. We on the other hand... good thinking. Matt, go see if Harry has the notes."

"Sure thing."

"You remeber where he is?"

"Yeah, no problem." Matt left the room.

"Great."

"Next piece of business," said Zachariah, "We need to patch this into your computer." He gestured to a small box with a short antenna on the back of it. It had a long, thin wire which was glowing at the end. Mace frowned. "What's it for?"

"To connect systems. Your radios are all automatic, right?" Zachariah guessed.

"Pretty much."

"This'll allow our radios to work with yours, among other things."

"It'll mean we can be in easier contact with Hell's Gate back on Pandora."

"Pandora? Where the hell is that?" Capa spoke up.

Norm, who was working on a separate computer system looked up. "You know of Alpha Centuri?"

"Closest star to the sun, yeah, of course."

"Pandora is a moon in orbit around the gas giant Polyphemus. An expedition from Earth discovered it in 2129... and it's perhaps the most interesting discovery by humans in hundreds of years."

"You're all from the future then."

"Some of us, yes. God, I mean, without that-" Norm gestured to the Temporal Displacement Device, resting on top of a conjured table, "-A lot of people could have died."

"So Harry's helped you guys too, then," said Mace.

"We're all in his debt, yeah. I know some people would bitch and complain that it wasn't his place to get involved, but really."

"Harry couldn't just leave it. That's not how he works," answered Cedric, as he restored a box to its original size. Mace only shook his head, then gestured at Zachariah. "C'mon, I'll show you where you can tap into the mainframe."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry woke up sometime later to voices. Matt and Cedric were seated on either side of the bed. He went to sit up, but Cedric put a hand on his chest. "Don't get up."

"Why? I need-"

"To rest. Last thing we need is you going off the deep end and blowing up the ship." Harry looked to his left, and realized Kaneda had regained consciousness himself.

"S-sorry, sir. Just, oh God, oh God..."

"Harry. Just, breathe." Cedric took his hand, and gave it a strong squeeze.

"All signs check in," came Bill's voice over the radio. It echoed above as well.

"How the hell?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Good, it's working," said Bill.

"This is gonna get confusing you know," came Cassie's voice.

"Welcome to the party line," came George's voice.

"So this is the ultimate 'reach out and touch someone'", said Jiro, "Light years and dimensions apart, and it all still fucking WORKS!" From there, it was several minutes of various stations confirming the check-in. The number of people all able to communicate through the network was extraordinary. At the end, the crew of the Icarus II added theirs, the novelty of talking with people over such a tremendous distance proving too much a temptation.

"Right then," said Harry, closing his eyes. "Tell me. What happened. I don't care how dark or stupid it is. I want every detail of what just happened."

"We had to destroy your main trunk, Harry... I'm sorry, but... Death Eaters nearly got into the container."

"We couldn't let them into Pandora. You know that Harry," came Jake's voice.

"I know. Was... was anything saved?"

"Some things. We've set up a temporary room off the crew mess here," said Bill.

"My parents' portrait..."

"Yes, we got it. The devices, your pensieve, the special things belonging to You-Know-Who, they're all here."

Harry blew out a breath. "Okay. Fine, I can live with that. Was... what about casualties? Other than... than..." he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Remus and Tonks. Dad was hurt pretty bad, he's in St. Mungo's-"

"Have Kreacher take you to be with him, Bill."

"No. I'll see him later. Harry, you are my number one priority right now and that's out of dad's mouth. Protect the king. On the chess board, you have to protect the king, right?"

"I... guess."

"Continuing. Given we were already breached, I dismantled the rest of the wards and summoned the Order. That's how Tonks was... is no longer with us. Hestia Jones was also killed. Mundungus Fletcher panicked and Disapparated soon as he saw what we were fighting."

"Useless git. He's the reason Dementors attacked me the first time around."

"What's a Dementor?" came Cassie's voice.

"Very dark creatures," answered Bill, "You can't see them because you're not magical. And even those who can, they're terrifying. Continuing. We finally pushed them back away from the entrance into the container. My brothers then set off some sort of magical explosion which imploded the expansion charms on the trunk."

"Was Voldemort there?"

"No. Though I think they were about to call him."

"Hate to interrupt, but we're about to dock with the Icarus I," said Cassie.

"I should be there," said Kaneda, but several voices rather strongly discouraged him.

"We got it, captain."

"Once all this shit blows over, I'll get you into Diagon Alley for a prosthetic," Harry offered, "They fixed Bill up quite nicely."

"Takes a while to get used to it," came Bill's voice, "But I'm pretty much accustomed to it now."

Harry laid back, listening to the chatter of those around him—whether they be in the same room, or back on Pandora. Once again, everything had gone pear-shaped, and he in no position to stop it. What good was he, if people kept insisting he 'stay safe'? Didn't they realize, no one was truly safe? Now, he'd lost two people dear to him, another friend, and another ally.

No. It wasn't their fault.

"Guys. You know what I want for Christmas? Delores Umbridge, bound in manacles, so I can strangle her with that ugly pink cardigan. Or no. Just twenty minutes alone with her... and my wand."

"Torturing her won't fix anything, Harry."

"No, but it might make me feel better. I want her to hurt. I want her to feel the knife shoved in my heart, 'cause that's exactly what it feels like. SHE is the reason my godfather's dead, Remus is dead, Tonks is dead, my fucking HOME is destroyed, need I go on?"

"Harry, killing her won't solve anything," said Bill, "Bide your time. She'll answer for her crimes before the Wizengamot. That's where you get your revenge. She'll spend the rest of her life rotting away in Azkaban, with the Dementors for company."

"It's a fate worse than death, mate," George added. Harry only nodded to himself, knowing his friends were right. Once the government was straightened out, he could then exact some personal justice. Umbridge had just vaulted to the top of that list.

"Bill. Have Kreacher take you back to Pandora. Jake or Tsu'tey?"

"What do you need?" came Jake's voice.

"I think we need to offer Umbridge another gift from Pandora. I'm sending Bill along."

"We'll have something ready."

"Great."

"What kind of gift?" came Mace's voice.

"The alcoholic kind. Last time we gave it to the bitch, she was practically incapacitated for a week."

"Damn, Harry. Remind me never to cross you," said Cassie.

"Ah, but see, revenge is, after all, a dish best served cold." There was malice in Harry's voice. He was all business. In the air-lock, where they were prepping to cross over to the crippled Icarus I, Mace swallowed hard. Would Harry make good on his threat?

Back in the medical bay, Harry took another calming draught and a sleeping potion. The emotional stress of losing his godfather for a second time was too much to bear otherwise, even with two of his mates beside him. Using so many potions wasn't a good thing, but it was either that, or possibly returning to the school and murdering the bitch where she stood, damn the consequences.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It seemed only a short time later, he woke to commotion. Capa and Corazon were practically carrying Mace over to a bed. He looked like a Popsicle.

"Harry? Harry, c'mon, need your help."

"W-what happened?"

"Searle, we're leaving you now. We gotta complete the mission. We're all thinking of you, Searle. Searle, we're gonna go now. We love you," came Cassie's voice.

"Explain!" Harry demanded. Why were they leaving the doctor behind?

"The two ships separated for some reason... air lock was busted, had to blow the air lock door on Icarus I, one way trip," Capa tried to explain. Harry was already casting healing charms on Mace. The guy was virtually blue.

"Twenty metres is a long way at minus two-hundred and seventy-three Celsius." Now the picture became clearer.

"We lost Harvey. C-couldn't keep a hold of him, floated into space." Harry mentally cursed himself again. Here he was, off in blissful sleep, while two of his new friends had been killed, a third turned into a human Popsicle. The guy was finally thawing out, but shivering uncontrollably.

"Pain relieving draught, and a calming draught. Drink them."

"How'll you cope without a doctor here?" Matt questioned.

"We'll make do. Contingencies are part of the program," said Corazon.

"They have to, Matt," came Jake's voice, "Even through the crash course in space flight, we covered that shit. Not that it really applied to me specifically, but most other crews, they all have somewhat of an idea what everyone else is doing. If everything goes south, one can pick up for the other. Make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess." He then noticed Kaneda was no longer in the Medical bay. Matt caught that. "He's on crutches. Back on the flight deck."

"Good, good. You okay?" He gestured to Capa.

"Peachy."

"Go spend some time in the Earth room. Captain's orders," came Kaneda's voice.

"All right, all right."

"Wait. Cedric, where are you?"

"In the crew mess with Zack."

"I'm assuming everything's secure again. You mind taking Capa to Pandora for a while?"

"Bring him to Hell's Gate for a bit," Jake suggested, "He's probably not ready for a cultural shock."

"Good thinking." A minute or two later, Cedric arrived. He and Harry embraced briefly, then he summoned Kreacher. They vanished with Capa a few moments later.

Then. "SONOFABITCH! Guys! Get down here!" came Jiro's voice.

"Where are you?"

"White room. Jesus Christ!"

"Earth room?" Cassie questioned.

"Think so. Just get down here... oh my God..."

Harry, having already been there, vanished with a noisy POP, to arrive at the scene. It was quickly evident what had happened: Trey had taken his own life, slashing his wrists with a scalpel. Harry knelt down beside the deceased man. "Be with Eywa now."

"What happened?" the captain demanded.

"Trey is dead. He slit his wrists in the Earth Room."

Only moments later, the others arrived, save for Cassie and Capa. Mace was still wrapped in a blanket, although he looked a lot less blue than he was.

"The guilt was too much... we should have seen it," said Corazon.

"Don't blame yourselves. Everyone can get overwhelmed, God, I understand that shit too well," said Harry, still kneeling beside Trey's body. "So much death so quickly today." Were these deaths part of the 'consequences'? He got no mental answer, but still resented the entire concept.

"Mr. Potter. I think it might be a good idea for you to get your people away from us."

"I... yeah, maybe so."

"Protect the King," said Mace, "Protect the mission."

"NO. I'm involved here now."

"Harry. They're right. It's safe for us to return now, and we got patching up to do."

Harry stood up, and blew out a breath. They were all right. He had reading to do, a dark wizard to kill, and a dark witch to crucify... not necessarily in that order.

"Any of my guys still on the Icarus II. Meet back at the crew mess."

Minutes later, the group was again gathered in the expanded room.

"Link arms with mine." That done, he whispered, 'Retracto'. The group vanished in a blur of appendages. They reappeared moments later in the hub.

"Blimey, Harry. Where are we?" Cedric dared ask.

"This is the interior of the Temporal Displacement Device. Now watch carefully. This picture—"

"That's the interior of the container, right?" said Matt.

"Should be. Touch the picture, it'll take you there. Go. I'll be last through." Harry watched as each of his friends and partners followed his instructions.

POP. "Harry, wait." Mace had managed to somehow enter the chamber.

"How-"

"Dude. Thanks for all your help. I know I could have just said it over the radio, but-" he offered a hand. Harry accepted, and they shook firmly.

"It's the right thing to do, right? Otherwise, our jobs are for nought, right? You remember how to-" The pictures swirling around them momentarily froze. "What the hell?" The pictures suddenly swirled in a violent circle, completely new behaviour.

"Did it do this before?"

"No! _Immobilus_!" Harry commanded, and everything froze again.

"Harry? Where are you?" came Matt's voice.

"Stuck in the hub. Something weird's happening. Just hang on, we'll be along shortly."

"We?"

"Mace decided to hitch a ride for a second time."

"You seem to have a habit of attracting passengers, Harry," George piped up.

"Right. Guys, quiet, trying to think here... HOME." he commanded. The picture showing the container reappeared. However, when he reached out a hand to touch it, nothing happened.

"Fuck me sideways... _Finite_." The pictures started flying around again. "We can't stay in here. Take my hand." Mace did so, and Harry snatched at the first image that came within range. They vanished in another blur of body parts.

The landing was rough, but not nearly as rough as it used to be. Harry landed on both feet, while Mace landed on his hands and knees. He scrambled to his feet. The place was old. And very dim. Harry wrinkled his nose at the stench. It smelled of rot and decay.

"All right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Where are we now?"

"No clue. Stick close."

"Listen." There. Harry could hear it too. Rattled breathing, and shuffling feet. Whatever it was, it likely didn't bode well. Harry tapped Mace on the head, whispering a spell. To Mace, it felt like someone had just dumped cold water on him. Both of them crushed up against a wall, as the shuffling came closer. Then, they saw it.

At first, Harry thought it was a human being. It walked, or shuffled rather slowly, but had two legs, two arms, and so on. But as it drew closer, he realized this was most definitely not. Perhaps it had been human at one point. Now, it resembled... a mummy. The skin was withered to the bones. Its face was practically skeletal, with beady, blue, glowing eyes. The outfit it wore was some type of ancient armour, either iron or steel, and it carried a glowing blade of some sort.(1) There was a small crunch, and Harry cringed. Mace had stepped on something. Had the thing saw it?

It was confirmed, as the monster let out what was better described as a growl, its glowing eyes snapping to their location.

"Oh shit..." Harry drew his wand. "_REDUCTO_!" The blast caught the creature in the chest, and it literally exploded in a gory mess. Unfortunately, there were at least a dozen more grunts or growls. Harry produced his clone. "Keep him safe."

Another mummified monster had arrived. This one wore a helm with long horns rising straight up from it. Likely a stronger one than the last.

"_Dir Volaan_!" it growled, taking a swipe with a much larger axe. It somewhat reminded him of the axe Avery had brought to Hogwarts when they were going to execute Buckbeak. Harry had to dodge the deadly weapon, and again brought his wand to bear on the monster.

"zun... Hal VIIK!" The monster shouted, and Harry felt his wand clatter off into a dark corner. Mace actually covered his ears from the volume of the monster's shout.

"What the fuck are you?" He demanded, and popped away to the opposite side of the corridor to escape the murderous blade. "Accio WAND!"

"_Reducto_!" came Harry's clone, and the monster was blasted against a wall. It simply got up.

"_Incendio_!" Harry shouted, and the monster was engulfed in flames.

"Aav Dilon!" the monster growled, even though its body was completely alight.

"Now what?" the clone asked.

"No choice. Us or it. _Avada kedavra_," Harry spoke, calmly. A sickening bolt of green magic struck the flaming monster, and it crumpled where it stood.

"Harry! Watch out!" Harry turned to see a pair of the hideous beasts trying to sneak up behind. They were dispatched easily.

"Really could've used my invisibility cloak here."

"What the hell are those things, though?" Mace at last managed to say.

"Nothing I've ever seen before, that's for damned sure. And our radio sets don't work here—_reducto_!" Another of the foul creatures fell to the blasting curse.

Passing through a series of passageways and chambers, they at last could hear voices up ahead.

"...not quick enough, otherwise Gallus would still be alive." It was a female speaking.

"Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way." The speaker was male this time. He sounded like an arrogant ass.

"Did you forget the oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?"

"Enough of this mindless banter! Come, Karliah, it is time for you and Gallus to become reunited!" There came a pop and a sizzle sound.

"I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing."

"What do we do?" the clone asked.

"Nothing. Not your fight, Harry," said Mace.

"He's right. Stay out of sight," Harry agreed. The man named Mercer was speaking again. "How interesting. It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you.

"Farewell, I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards." The sound of steel penetrating flesh followed.

The trio hugged the wall, as a single individual exited the room. He was dressed in a black leather outfit; Harry guessed it was some sort of armour. He was white, a little taller than he was, with a long scabbard strapped to his waist. He watched him disappear around a bend.

"Wait. Listen." They could hear more movement inside the room the man named Mercer had just come out of. The sound of a body being dragged across the floor. Harry edged toward the opening, and he was right. The female was dragging a body across the floor of the rather large chamber. Harry so much wanted to step out of the shadows and help, but Mace was right. As long as he stayed out of sight, he wouldn't be seen, and they could be on their way. There had to be a way out of the tomb, as he know knew it was.

They had to wait nearly fifteen minutes before Karliah was gone. They were then able to enter the chamber, which was somewhat brighter than the rest of the tomb. A pool of blood was on the floor, and a trail of it led toward a door on the opposite side of the chamber, up a set of stairs.

"Harry. Isn't that the thing in the drawing?" Mace pointed to a strange frame resting against a far wall. It was exactly like the item in the drawing. Along with it, was another cylinder-like object, and even from there, Harry could feel the magical energy radiating from it.

"Right. The reason we're here." Harry hurried over to the items, and within seconds had each of them packed away in his pockets.

"Let's get out of here." He gripped Mace about the shoulder, and whispered, "_Retracto_."

To his relief, he felt the discomfort that came with apparition, and seconds later, they arrived back in the hub. To his double surprise, his clone arrived only a second after.

"Well, that's a new one. My clone usually gets destroyed," Harry mused. "Right. Let's try to get back to the container." He again reached out for the picture, but was again rebuked, and sucked into another image.

He returned a few almost instantly, although he looked like he'd seen a ghost, and his clothes were a tattered mess.

"Harry?"

"Not. O.K." His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he dropped in a dead faint. Mace looked to the clone. "What now?"

"Something's wrong with the hub. Gotta do some reading. At least try and find your world," the clone decided, as he fished the stack of documents out of his pockets, and restored them to original size. Mace, meanwhile, attempted to spot the image of the Icarus II amongst the maelstrom of images flying around the outside of the room. Even after being there a few times, it remained a most unnerving experience.

"Okay. Might have something." The clone held out a hand, ordering, "Reset!" The pictures all froze for a moment, then continued circling the room, but back to their much slower, normal speed. He thought for a moment, then commanded, "Last image." Nothing happened. "Last world?" Again, nothing.

"Last dimension," Mace tried. A frame zoomed out from the outer circle.

"Brilliant." The frame in question now showed, of all things, a dragon.

"For real?" Mace stared at the frame, unsure of whether to be astounded, or terrified. The monster was attacking a small village. The people were trying to defend against the terrible beast, but what power did a simple human have against something like THAT?

"I fought one," said the clone, "Last year, during a tournament at the school. They had one for each of us."

"Serious?"

"I swear it. My luck as always, I drew the biggest, baddest, meanest of the lot. Only by sheer luck did I escape being roasted alive and eaten, I think. And Hermione's brilliant teaching. She taught me the summoning charm."

"Mmmm, summon a pillow for me," Harry mumbled, half conscious.

"Gotta get him back to the container. You know how the frames work." The clone levitated Harry, gripped him by the shoulder, and touched the frame of the trunk. He vanished. Mace followed seconds later.

The container had already undergone a few changes since the incident hours earlier. A new common room was already taking shape, with some of the furniture already in place. Bill was busily configuring a grand fireplace on one wall. Jiro was assisting an ancient wizard with a large window on an opposite wall. Matt was also lending a hand, although he wasn't able to do a lot with his somewhat limited magical knowledge.

"Guys. A little help here," said the clone. Everyone turned around at once, and immediately all attention was on Harry.

"What happened?"

"Don't know. Entered another dimension and came back this way," the clone explained.

"Pockets. Frame, take it. Two more cylinders. Calming draught and a p-p-pain-relieving potion, please."

"Here." the clone was already producing said potions.

"Professor, maybe we should—" Jiro began, but Harry snapped his eyes to the dark-haired wizard. "I won't be seeing Madam Pomfrey!" The focus was coming back, and he sat up, at last getting a look around. "Thank you... all of you for your help."

"After all that has happened, it was only fair, Harry," said the ancient man.

"Thank you, professor. Mace. This is professor Albus Dumbledore, of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where I'm supposed to be in class right now. Professor, one of my new friends from... well..."

"It's Mace, sir."

"Ah. Well, welcome." The pair shook hands. Mace figured the man had to be at least a hundred years old, judging by his appearance.

"Right. That tears it," Harry declared, "I've had all I'm gonna take from those blasted devices."

"Go Harry!" came George's voice over the headset.

"George. Shut it!" came Bill's rebuke.

"Guys. I'm dead serious. This shit has caused more grief than Voldemort EVER has. The last jump I did, I was nearly killed on SIX differnt occasions. Wanna know what was at fault? A fucking DRAGON. Big, scaly, flies, breathes fire? Yeah, a fucking dragon. Finally A/K'd its ass, the tearing of my soul be damned. It chased me for three days across the countryside."

"Harry, I truly worry."

"Worry all you want, I'm still alive, the dragon is very dead. So anyway, new plan. Mace, tell me about your mission, what exactly are you guys gonna do?"

"You know of the heat shield on the Icarus?"

"What Kaneda and Capa had to fix."

"Right. Directly behind that is a nuclear payload with a mass the size of Manhattan Island."

"So we're talking an explosion the size of Manhattan?"

"Much larger, Harry," came Capa's voice. Of course he could still hear them. "The whole point of our mission is to restart the sun."

"Would it be possible for me to add a few things to it?"

"It wouldn't make a hell of a difference."

"Harry, you can't be thinking of-" Dumbledore began, but Harry cut across him, hissing, "I'm not fate's kicking dog. If fate wants someone, they can choose a new champion. I resign."

"Harry. The device you have in your possession is immensely valuable. If you destroy it, we will have lost the potential for some truly remarkable research."

"Professor, I no longer care. The people who charged me with finding it didn't tell me what I was supposed to do with it once I found it. I think, if anything, the device is too dangerous to keep. What if Voldemort got his hands on it? Then what?"

"I'd have to agree, Harry," came Norm's voice. "You're absolutely right in wanting to dispose of it. If the crew of Icarus II will let you, I would take the opportunity."

"Captain?" said Mace. No answer.

"Kaneda? You there?" No answer. "Cassie? Cory?"

"Shit." Harry gripped Mace on the shoulder. "_Retracto_."

Landing on the hub's floor, they found Kaneda there, a scalpel jabbed into his chest. "Oh fuck."

"I'll take Mace back to the Icarus," the clone offered. The picture of the Icarus II had changed again. They were much closer to the sun now. "Ready?" Both of them touched the image, and vanished. Unfortunately, a brief stream of memories came to him. The clone was not allowed to follow.

"Mace? You're on your own for now." No answer, and Harry was torn. Help Mace, or Kaneda? Mace would have to look after himself for a bit. He grabbed Kaneda by the sleeve and touched the image of the trunk.

"Guys, a bit of help here!" Harry shouted, soon as his feet touched the floor. He could certainly fix the injury himself, but his mind was on getting back to the Icarus II. Something was definitely wrong.

"I'll look after him," said Bill, "Go."

"Ced, bring Capa back to the container for now. He'll be needed back on the Icarus soon."

"Copy." Harry vanished again, back to the hub. There, he touched the image of the Icarus II, and the sensation of apparition followed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_AUTHOR NOTES: Next up, we have an ending to things, including an explosive battle with Voldemort on board the Icarus II, much to Mace, Capa, and Kaneda's shock._

_The Elder Scrolls and its characters copyright(C) Bethesda Studios and Zenimax Media. All rights reserved. Draugr translations (thanks to the Elder Scrolls Wiki):_

_Dir Volaan - "Die Quickly"_

_zun hal viik - "weapon – hand – defeat", the disarming shout._

_Aav dilon - "Join dead"_


	51. An Ending To Things

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted February 24, 2012._

* * *

**-CHAPTER 50-**

**AN ENDING TO THINGS**

**Or, Harry devises a plan to rid himself of several problems**

* * *

Reappearing on board the Icarus II, he was shocked to find near total darkness. "_Lumos_!" he commanded, wand already drawn. Light flared from the end of it, revealing a trail of blood on the floor. "Mace? _Homenum revelio_." Two shades registered in his mind's eye. One a little further back, and one up toward the front, where the heat shield and payload was.

"Ced? Bring Capa through, gonna need his help. You remember how to come through?"

"Yeah, done it enough," came Cedric's answer. The blood trail was the biggest concern. He quickly followed, and didn't have to go far. Near the door leading to the Earth Room, he found Corazon. She was already gone, a slice across her stomach exposing most of her innards. He felt saddened, and angered at the same time. What had happened here? Did Mace do this? The answer came straight back: no. He knew exactly what was at stake. Killing his fellow crew members would jeopardize the mission. No, it was someone else.

"Harry? Where are you?" came Cedric's voice.

"Take Capa back to the container. Send Bill back here, I need some backup."

"I can-"

"No. Stay in the container."

"Harry, I won't be treated like a fragile ornament!"

"But-"

"No. I'll be coming along."

"I'm on my way," came Bill's voice.

Harry returned to the airlock area, as that was where they were landing. He was just in time to see Bill arrive.

"Matt's looking after Capa. Madam Pomfrey did look in on Kaneda, but he'll be fine. I also convinced Cedric to stay behind. What's going on?" Bill asked.

"Corazon's dead. I detect two people. One of them may be a killer, so wands out. Stun first ask questions later."

A loud crash came from somewhere forward. "I'll check it," Bill offered.

"Great. Gonna go find Mace, see why we're in the dark."

"Harry, it's likely the computer. The computers would control everything," said Norm, "And watch yourselves."

"Great, thanks for the tip." He turned, and sped off, remembering where actual computer was located. Mace had shown him briefly sometime earlier. Getting closer, he herd a splashing sound, and laboured breathing.

Harry was stunned by what he came upon.

"H-h-h-harry... p-p-pl-please." Mace was half-submerged in the mainframe's coolant, a liquid which could cause frostbite within seconds. 'FOOL' Harry shouted in his head. The computer's four modules were suspended out of the coolant, the obvious reason for the man's life-threatening endeavour.

"Merlin's ghost." Without thinking, Harry banished the entire tank of coolant.

"N-n-no!" Mace cried, but it was too late. The deed was done. Harry bodily man-handled the guy out of the now empty tank.

"How long were you in that shit?"

"D-d-d-don't k-n-n-nnow... you'vvve... the coolant. M-m-mainframe w-w-w-won't w-w-work without the c-c-c-coolant." Harry pulled Mace out of the room altogether, then gestured sharply with his wand, casting the strongest freezing charm he could muster. The room was instantly encased in a block of ice.

Moments later, the lights began to flick back on, much like the computer. Icarus was waking up. Harry turned to his once again frozen friend. Another drying charm, and a gentle warming charm. A pain relieving potion, and a calming potion. "Better?"

"Th-Thanks. What did you do?"

"Very strong freezing charm. And while I'm thinking of it." Harry jabbed his wand at the doorway, casting a strong intent ward. "Just so no one gets any bright ideas. We've got an intruder."

"Icarus?"

"Yes, Mace?"

"G-good to hear from you again. How many crew members are aboard?"

"There are four crew members aboard," Icarus answered.

"Capa's still in your container?"

"Only Bill's with me. Kaneda's also back in the container. The guys are taking care of him. Corazon's dead, I found her in the Earth Room."

"Icarus, where is Cassie?" Mace questioned.

"I no longer detect her, Mace."

"Bill?"

"I heard. What do we do—Merlin's Balls!"

"What's wrong?"

"Your friend Cassie. I'm sorry... I just found her."

"We know," said Mace.

"Disillusionment charms. Stun the bastard if you can, but be safe. Take their life if you have to."

"Got it."

"Icarus," said Harry.

"I do not recognize you."

"A guest, Icarus."

"Okay, Mace. How can I help you?" the question was obviously for Harry.

"We have an intruder. Can you tell me where you detect people?"

"I detect two crew members near my mainframe. I detect one crew member leaving the flight deck, and one more in the observation room."

"Thank you, Icarus. Bill was just at the flight deck."

"Icarus. Lock the door to the observation room." The pair took off, Mace moving a little slowly due to the lingering effects of his dive in the freezing liquid. The potions Harry gave him were a help, but did not alleviate all the pain. It still hurt to move. He bore it, however, knowing what was at stake. The intruder had killed two of his crew mates, and had attempted to sabotage the computer. Come to think of it... "Harry. Whoever it is, they probably caused the airlock separation. They were on the Icarus I."

"Could they have survived that long?"

"Everything was working. Food, water, air. So yeah."

"Explains why they were able to sabotage the computer."

Arriving at the observation room, they found the door busted off, glass scattered on the floor. Naturally, the room was empty.

"Shit."

"Come on... I got a way to solve this." He gripped Mace about the shoulder, and popped back into the hub, and then touched the image of the container.

"My large map. Where is it?"

"Here." Matt snatched it off a nearby table, and passed it over. "Be careful."

"I know."

Seconds later, they were back in the Icarus II's airlock. Harry opened the map, although to Mace, it just looked like a sheet of folded up parchment. "How's that gonna help?"

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry intoned, putting a finger on the map. Mace watched in amazement, as the page rapidly filled with text:

MR. PRONGS JR., IN HONOUR OF MSSRS PRONGS, PADFOOT, AND MOONY, PURVEYORS OF AIDS TO MAGICAL MISCHIEF-MAKERS, PROUDLY PRESENTS THE 'ADVANCED MARAUDERS' MAP'

"The Maurauders Map?"

"I have a smaller one in the container. It has a complete layout of my school... but look." Harry pointed to the map, which was already filling out a layout of the ship, starting from their location. "_velocitatem_," he intoned. '13670.17 mph' appeared at the top of the page.

"Shit. He's going for the oxygen garden." Mace pointed to a spot moving along the corridors, labelled 'Pinbacker'.

"Who was he?"

"Captain of the first Icarus."

"Bill! Oxygen garden!"

"On my way," came the reply.

"Icarus, seal the oxygen garden!"

"Yes, Mace," came her replay.

"Can he override it?"

"No, he shouldn't, anyway."

"Stop."

"Why?" They stopped. Harry once again gripped him about the shoulder, and they Disapparated with a noisy POP.

They reappeared in front of the door to the Oxygen garden. Harry brandished his wand in front of him, and disillusioned both of them.

"Bill. Disillusion yourself. We can trap him."

"Already done, Harry." They could then hear soft footsteps coming toward them. The target rounded a corner, and in the well-lit corridor, Harry was shocked at the man's appearance. He'd been burned severely, the skin on his body was scarred everywhere it was visible. For a second, he thought he was seeing one of the monsters they'd encountered only a short while before. But no... this man had human eyes.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Harry did not miss. Pinbacker's arms snapped to their sides, and he fell over like a tree.

"Nice shot, mate." Bill rounded the corner almost immediately after. "What now?"

"Remove the threat so he can't pose a further danger," said Harry, dangerously. "Enemies can't be allowed to have a second go at the target."

"Harry, bring him back to Hell's Gate. We can lock him in the holding cell here," Norm suggested.

"Brilliant."

"I'll take him," Bill offered, directing his wand at the prisoner. "_Incarcerous_!" Thick ropes flew out of the end of his wand, to wrap themselves around the already petrified Pinbacker. "Just so we're sure no accidents happen between here and there."

"I know this. Kaneda will have some pointed questions for you later, fucker." Mace gave the man a swift kick in the side for his effort. Bill gripped the target, and popped away.

"What now?"

"Still got a mission to do."

"The package. Ced, bring Capa through, we're clear."

"Prisoner en-route to the holding cells," said Bill, "Just about there now."

Within a matter of minutes, all three crew members of the Icarus II were reunited.

"Icarus, how long to the delivery point?" questioned Kaneda.

"Eighteen hours, fifty-six minutes, captain," came the answer.

"If there are things you need to do before, this is the time to do them."

"Harry. Lucas. Remember?" came Matt's reminder.

"Right. One problem. I don't know how to call up his universe."

"Think about it, Harry. How do you get to yours?"

"I just call for 'home'."

"That's how it works," said Mace, "Get him to do it. I'll bet the hub will just... know."

"Brilliant. Thanks, mate."

Minutes later, he had tracked down Lucas and his family.

"We can really get home now?" Meghan was thrilled.

"I'm sure of it. You guys need to grab anything before we go?"

"Not a lot, considering what happened earlier."

"And I'm sorry about that."

"Harry. Life is more important than things. I don't need to tell you that, right?"

"'course you're right, Lucas. C'mon, let's get you packed up."

After a few good-byes, Harry took the family into the hub.

"Now. What I need you to do, Lucas, is to focus on your home. The place you lived at in Diconcenturia. Then, it's a simple word: home. It should call up an image of your universe construct. Understand?"

"Simple enough." Lucas went quiet for a few moments, but finally said, "Home." A frame zoomed out from the others, to join Harry's frame. It showed the house Harry had seen what seemed like ages ago. Harry took note of the counter at the bottom. It was indeed running much faster than the counter on his own frame. Their timeline was accelerated.

"Ready?"

"What do I do now?"

"Meghan and Seamus, hold onto him tightly." Both did as told. "Great. I'll be following you. But now, Lucas... just touch the picture. It'll take you home."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it." Lucas hesitated, but finally reached out to touch the image. Harry didn't miss his look of shock the instant they vanished. He waited a few moments, then followed.

Meghan's eyes were tearing up, and even Lucas was clearly overjoyed at being home.

"Mate, I can't thank you enough," said Lucas, a broad smile forming.

"I've got one more thing I have to do: make sure you won't be in any trouble for being away as long as you have."

"I appreciate that."

"It's only fair. I shouldn't blame myself, but I do. Had I not visited, you wouldn't have had your lives interrupted for two-plus months."

"Come on then, come at least have a cup of tea with us before we phone anyone."

"I'd love to."

"Uncle Harry?" Harry grinned, and knelt down so he was eye-level with Seamus. "You're really leaving us now?"

"I'm afraid so. I know you had loads of fun with us, but your mum and dad need to have their life back, and so do you. You should be going to school, like other boys and girls your age. You need to be out with your friends and such, not stuck inside of my trunk with no one to talk to but older people."

"But I liked all your friends, they were really neat."

"Seamus, everything will work out. You still have your mum and dad, and I know they love you very much."

"Come, sweetheart, let's fix some tea, and for you, some milk and cookies."

"I'll likely have to conjure those... anything in your fridge is likely spoiled by now."

"Right. Away for two months. Well come on." Lucas led them up the steps, to the front door. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. "Hello?" No answer. He pushed the door open cautiously, and stepped inside.

They were shocked at what they found. The dining table remained exactly as they left it, a half-eaten lunch still set out. The toy which had bumped into the back of Harry's foot now rested against the table. Steam was still rising from the pot of tea at the centre of the table.

"Good grief, it's as though we never left!" Meghan exclaimed.

"Food's still hot."

"In other words... this must be only seconds later. I could even go back to the Great Light. No. I don't have the time. I need to get back to my trunk."

"At least have the rest of lunch with us."

"Of course."

After an emotional good-bye, Harry returned to the hub, and then to the Icarus II. He was not surprised to find Zachariah, Jiro, Matt, and Bill had already returned.

"Thought you went to return Lucas and his family," said Matt.

"Already done. Remember their timeline runs much faster than ours. What was ten days or so was only a few minutes back in our world. Something I've been thinking about. The radios... gotta wonder if the radios would still work in a situation like that."

"Doubt it," said Zachariah, shaking his head.

"Harry. You're gonna destroy all this stuff, right?" Matt gestured to the Temporal Displacement Device and its various components.

"Right."

"What about these?" He gestured to the warded box which contained Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"What's in that anyway?" Capa was standing at the door.

"Some of the darkest magic ever performed. Three objects, each containing a small slice of Voldemort's soul. I've mentioned him a few times already."

"He split his soul." Capa arched an eyebrow.

"Yes, into seven pieces, not including himself. So there's still one more fragment, but I know where it is."

"What would he do that for?"

"To prevent himself from dying. At least, dying completely. The Horcruxes kept him tethered to the mortal plane until something could be done to get him a new body."

"That's some seriously fucked up magic." Mace now joined Capa framing the doorway.

"You can say that again. Until these-" Harry gestured at the box, "-are destroyed, he cannot be killed completely. He would just find a way back."

"Put them in the payload. Nothing says 'damage beyond magical repair' like gazillion-degree heat," Bill suggested.

"Not quite a gazillion degrees... more like temperatures in the tens of thousands... still stupid hot, nothing we've made can survive. All this..." Capa gestured in a wide arc, "Even this shit, we're taking a risk getting as close as we are."

"Yes. While I'm thinking of it. Got some more port keys for the three of you. These ones will take you directly to my home... well, my new home, anyway." Harry reached into his pants pocket and pulled out three coins which he had charmed while having lunch with Lucas and his family. He passed each to Capa and Mace. "The activation phrase is 'Harry's new home'. I'll give the last one to Kaneda when I see him... where is he anyway?"

"Flight deck."

"Of course. Should know that one already." Harry gave a goofy grin, and an honest smile.

"What?"

"I can see the light at the end of the tunnel," said Harry, as he got to thinking. He was able to force someone into the hub. Did that extend to non-human entities? It was risky, but it could mean truly the end. The crew of the Icarus could not know what he was up to, and for that matter, neither could anyone else. It was something he had to do _alone_.

First things first. "Guys. This stuff needs to be moved to the payload. All those-" he gestured to the Temporal Displacement Device, along with the other components that belonged to it, "-and that box." He pointed to the box containing the Horcruxes.

"I'll show them where they can leave them," said Capa.

"Great. We got a fair bit of time left. Think I'd like to at least get a bit of rest."

"C'mon, you can take Harvey's bed since he won't be needing it," said Mace.

"Right."

"I'll come with," said Cedric, and Harry's world brightened just a little more. It would be the first time in nearly three months, after all.

Unfortunately for Harry, rest did not come. Now that the adrenaline rush subsided, the terrible realization set in. Although he had not been there to witness his godfather's death this time, it was all too easy to remember the first time around. Couple that with Remus' death, the pain and despair again overwhelmed him. He woke up crying.

This cycle repeated several times, before he finally gave up and got up.

"I'm going back to the Tree of Souls. Coming?" He asked, giving Cedric a poke.

"Yeah, of course. Bill and Matt should come with." Harry did a minor calculation. The place would be alive at that time, as it was near dark.

"Come on then."

* * *

The Tree of Souls was indeed a busy spot once again, with the Na'vi gathered for their evening meal.

"Harry! Come, join us!" Jake beckoned. Harry and his mates quickly joined their friend, as space was made by the fire.

"All is well, HarryPotter?" asked Mo'at.

"Not quite, but almost. In a few hours, I'll be another step closer to destroying Voldemort... and I'll be rid of those infernal devices I've been saddled with."

"You would destroy such a... powerful object?"

"In my opinion, it's something that shouldn't have been created in the first place. We should never have met."

"But we wouldn't have met, either, Harry," Matt pointed out, with a frown.

"Yes and you'd still be living the life you were meant to live, out on the road performing with your band mates. Lucas and his family wouldn't have had their lives disrupted for nearly two months. And maybe, I would have stopped Voldemort from coming back a second time around."

"And maybe we would have been blown up by Pinbacker," came Mace's voice. "You forget the positive shit that's come out of you being dropped in the middle of us."

"Still, the world... the timeline was set up for certain things to happen. It's not my right to interfere. Hermione would say the same thing. As wonderful as it is to sit here amongst new friends, it shouldn't have been allowed." Harry closed his eyes, still galvanized by his own thinking. The devices made it too easy for someone to meddle with things.

The calming effect Pandora's ambient magic had on him allowed him to finally relax, and the next thing he knew, dawn was breaking. Only a couple of hours left before Icarus II delivered its payload. Less time still for him to set a trap for Voldemort. He planted kisses on all three of his mates, and silently Disapparated back to the hub.

Once there, he edged the frame showing Icarus II as close to him as he could get. What he was about to do was extremely dangerous, but should it actually work, it would be well worth it. He closed his eyes, bringing up the clearest picture he could of Nagini. "_Intro Retracto_!" He commanded.

It worked better than he could have hoped for, for seconds later, the target appeared in a writhing, hissing, angry mass. Harry snatched the snake by the tail, then touched the picture, and they were thrown through space and time, back to the Icarus II.

They landed in the airlock, and Harry immediately ripped the radio collar off. Last thing he needed was for people to come running and end up hurt.

"_Harry Potter,_" the snake hissed, "_What twisted magic is this? Master will kill you if I do not first!_" The snake lunged for him, fangs barred, and he only avoided her by mere inches. Harry knew he couldn't use anything destructive, as he risked doing damage to the spacecraft. "Stupefy!" The snake dodged it, and lunged again.

"_Incarcerous_!" The snake again dodged the conjured ropes, and struck again. He was being backed up toward the mess hall, and he prayed the way was clear. He now doubted the sanity of this idea, as the snake proved more than a handful. She was easily dodging everything Harry threw at her.

"Harry? What the fuck?" Capa had just stepped out of the mess hall, and was alarmed to come face to face with what looked like an enormous black mamba. They were effectively extinct in their world, but that didn't mean anything when it came to Harry. Capa had quickly learned to expect just about anything at this point. He was forced to duck, as the snake lunged at him.

"Capa! Get the hell out of here! She'll kill you!"

"_If master does not first!_" the snake hissed, again lunging for Harry, narrowly missing, and colliding with the wall. Capa pulled an electric scalpel out of his pocket, and brandished it out in front of him. "Distract her!" Harry doubted the sanity of THAT idea as well, but it was better than nothing. He threw up some magical shields, praying to everything holy they wouldn't interfere with the spacecraft in some way. The fact the lights weren't flickering was a good thing, then. The snake lunged at Harry again, and this time Capa nailed her with the scalpel.

The snake reared up, looking twice as angry as she'd been, but still alive. The scalpel rolled away into a corner, with the snake in between. Capa went to duck, but this time Nagini was ready, and he felt two sharp fangs penetrate the back of his left leg. He went down in a heap. Nagini pounced on the helpless Muggle, while Harry attempted to get his wand trained on her. She was moving frighteningly fast, coiling around the man.

"NO! What the fuck, NO!" Mace had come on the scene, and carried a horrified expression on his face. Harry knew at this point he had no choice. The snake was going to suffocate the young physicist, if the poison didn't kill him first. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

It happened in slow motion. The green bolt of magic struck the snake on the back of the head, and she became dust. A terrible, keening wail was heard only a moment later.

"What the fuck was that?"

"H-h-harry." Capa was shaking, as the poison was already into his blood stream. "H-help me..."

"Just hold on. Fawkes," Harry whispered. The bird appeared almost instantly, and Harry gestured to his gravely injured friend. "Please."

"What can a fucking pigeon do? How stupid are you! Fucking hell!" Mace was livid.

"Just wait... Fawkes can help. Look." Adrenaline was pumping fast and furious at this point... and with a swirl of black smoke, it was not over. "Mace, get out of here. Now."

"No."

"Hello, Harry." Mace knew he was looking at the face of pure evil. Tall, with virtually grey skin, red eyes, and only slits for a nose—the man resembled a snake—if it was a man at all.

"Hello, Tom," Harry answered in equal greeting, as though he were inviting the being over for tea. Internally, he was already praying his next order would work. 'Sever', he projected, followed by, 'Lock'. If it worked as he hoped, the hub would be locked to outsiders, and the two universes would be severed.

* * *

At that moment, the guys in the trunk were tyring to locate Harry, and were in conversation with those at Hell's gate. Everyone was perplexed, when the radio system stopped working.

"What the hell?" Matt looked gravely concerned. "Back to the trunk, guys."

"Maybe Harry went back to the Icarus."

"We should be there too," said Cedric, "You guys know what kind of trouble he can get into."

"Yes, Gods do we ever," said Bill, as they linked arms. They popped away.

Once in the trunk, there was more conversation, as others by this point realized something was wrong.

"Just stay put guys, we're looking into it," said Bill, "Don't you all have classes to go to?"

"But Harry," said Ron.

"You know he'll be all right," said Matt, "Just..."

"Just get to class."

Ron and Hermione weren't reassured, but at this point there was nothing they could do. They escorted Draco through the floo, back to Hogwarts.

"Right. Back to the hub. Hands..." they joined hands. "_Retracto_," Bill commanded. Nothing happened.

"Shit. NOW I'm concerned."

"Floo Dumbledore," Matt suggested.

* * *

"Fawkes! Get Capa out of here. Mace, I mean it! GO!" Fawkes snatched the man by the pant-leg and attempted to flame away, but could not. He flapped his wings instead, and Capa was amazed, as he was lifted off the floor. They flew off down the corridor, into the crew mess.

"New friends, are they, Harry."

"This is just between you and me, Tom."

"Do not use that disgusting name."

"Why not? It is your name, isn't it? The name your mother gave you?"

"I am Lord Voldemort!" The monstrosity roared, brandishing his wand at Harry. Mace only stood there, rooted to the floor.

"Mace, what's the hold-up?" came Kaneda's voice, "Payload delivery in thirty-five minutes."

"Got a small problem, captain."

"What sort of problem?" Mace couldn't answer the question, as he was forced to duck a sick green bolt of magic. It slammed into a wall, melting away the casing and exposing the insulation behind it.

"Careful casting magic here, you'll kill everyone, including yourself."

"I shall be gone long before I would be endangered by such things, foolish boy! I have taken steps."

"Like your diary? Or Slytherin's locket? Or Ravenclaw's diadem? Yes, Tom, I know what you did, and more to the point of the story, I have undone them. ALL of them. Even Nagini." Harry gestured to the pile of ash on the floor.

For the first time, there was honest fear in the Dark Lord's eyes. How did he learn of his secret? Surely, he would have known. He would have felt something. Right? "You lie."

"I do not. Your Horcruxes are gone, Tom. It's just you and me."

"Capa, where are you?" came Kaneda's voice again.

"Mess hall, captain... on my way."

"See, Tom, I knew you'd follow Nagini. You fell for my trap, hook, line, and sinker. Even if you kill me, there's no way for you to get back. The gate closed behind you."

"What nonsense is this?" Voldemort roared, a shocked look crossing his face. The boy was not bluffing. If not, he wouldn't have- Voldemort attempted to Disapparate, but failed, and barely kept his balance. That earned a snicker out of Mace, who still watched off to the side.

"Think this is funny, filthy Muggle? _Crucio_!"

PAIN. Nothing Mace had experienced ever before could match the pain which coursed over every square inch of him, and he let out a horrible scream. Only Harry's quick stunning spell broke the unforgivable, and unluckily, Voldemort dodged it. Mace lay prone on the floor, heaving, the after effects of the Cruciatus curse virtually crippling him.

"Mace, what's going on?" came Capa's concerned voice.

"S-s-stay out of this! Help the captain!"

"Mace! Get out of here! The mission, remember?" Of course, he was of no use in his state. Harry brandished his wand again, levelling it at his nemesis. He put himself in between so Voldemort would not be able to curse Mace again. "Fawkes."

the bird once again appeared, this time by way of flame, since it was only from the crew's mess. Unfortunately, Voldemort chose that moment to unleash another killing curse; the bird simply swallowed it, and was again rendered a chick. Mace was shocked at the event, and instinctively snatched the small bird before it was trampled.

"C'mon, Tom, let's end this."

"What the hell-"

"_Avada kedavra!_" For the second time in such a short time frame, Mace witnessed the terrible power of the killing curse, as it struck his captain square in the chest. It was as if he were a puppet whose strings had been severed, as he dropped to the floor, the life having been blasted out of him with a single, green bolt of magic. Voldemort looked at Mace, then laughed, seeing the hurt and anger flooding the Muggle's face. "That's what you have to look forward to, once Harry and I finish our... discussion."

"Fuck you."

"_Stupefy_!" Harry roared, but Voldemort simply batted the spell away as if it were a ball.

Then, it was a hailstorm of colourful magic, as the pair opened up on each other. Mace, in his still half-crippled state, could only crawl back toward the mess hall, hoping and praying he would escape unscathed. He reached said compartment, and slammed the door closed. He slumped up against the wall, his chest heaving.

"Capa... how... how long?"

"We're ten minutes from the delivery point. Mace, what's wrong?"

"I dunno... bad shit going on." Mace set the ugly chick up on the counter, then hauled himself to his feet.

"Where's the captain?"

"Dead."

"What?"

"The evil wizard killed him with magic. The fucker just shouted two words and Kaneda was gone! When this is over, so help me..."

"Not helping. Get up here and give me a hand."

"On my way. You on route to the payload?"

"Copy that." Mace turned around in time to see a black swirl of smoke blast through the closed door, and out the other side of the room. "What the fuck? That did NOT just happen."

"Say again?"

"A black cloud of smoke-"

"Saw it. Was it Harry?"

"Think so. Could they be going to the payload?"

"That would be a good thing, Mace. Magic doesn't work there. Too much interference. That's what Bill said anyway."

The pair cleared the door leading into the payload, and simply dropped like two sacks of stones, the trail of black smoke dissipating. Both sprawled out on the floor, knocked a little silly. Voldemort regained his bearings a little quicker, and instantly went for his wand. Harry was still down, but scrambled for his as well. Voldemort, however, was one step ahead. "_Avada kedavra!_"

Harry saw his life flash in front of him, twice. Bill, Cedric, Matt... Ron, Hermione... Jake, Neytiri, Mo'at, Tsu'tey... Mace, Capa... He'd failed. Everything hinged on his success here, and he'd failed. Only thing he could do, was greet death honestly. Now he would at last be with mum and dad, Sirius, Remus, and the new friends who had died for him or because of him. He resigned himself to his fate, waiting for the blast of green magic.

It never came.

"What trickery is this!" Voldemort roared, and tried again, with the same result. For the first time in his life, the Dark Lord was afraid. He could not feel his magic. He had ALWAYS been able to feel his magic, and to suddenly be without it?

"There are things far worse than death, Tom," said Harry, getting up. He understood at once what the problem was. He'd not been in the payload before, but quickly put two and two together: Magic didn't work here. The door opened, and both Mace and Capa entered.

"Icarus, seal the payload door!"

"Okay, Mace."

Voldemort, meanwhile, lunged for Harry, and they locked in a mass of sprawling, flailing limbs, much as they'd been doing moments before. The Dark Lord fought dirty, but so did Harry, having learned some nasty tricks over eleven years of all-out war.

"Mace, c'mon," Capa prodded, and the pair of them moved around the combatants. They were nearing the delivery point, and just a few things had to be seen to. The pair of them went down a ramp, leading into a small chamber containing complex controls which triggered the atomic reaction.

Both Harry and Voldemort were tiring at this point, having been cursing each other with magic just before, and now resorting to fists and feet. The Dark Lord could deal one hell of a wallop, but so could Harry. He could see it in the older wizard's eyes. The man was actually fighting for his life. Of course, that made him desperate, and dangerous.

The pair were so wrapped up in fighting each other, they did not see Mace com up behind with a heavy flashlight. He didn't miss, and with a bony crack, the Dark Lord crumpled to the cold floor made of radioactive material. He was still conscious, however, but completely dazed, likely not fully comprehending what was going on. By the sound of it, Mace had likely fractured the Dark Lord's skull.

"Never underestimate a Muggle, Tom," said Harry, still shaking. "Thanks, mate." He reached down, and collected Voldemort's Yew wand, and stuffed it in the waistband of his pants.

"We're out of time. Say what you have to say, we gotta go."

"Do you remember what I said to you back in June, Tom? Back when you tried to possess me? I still mean that. I feel sorry for you. Sorry that you never got the chance to know what love means. For if you had, things would not have ended this way. You could have been a better man. I do pray your spirit finds rest with the Great Mother... and that all you have harmed may find the courage to forgive you. This is good bye, Tom. It's time you saw the light." With that, Harry took Mace's outstretched hand, in which he held the Galleon coin he'd given them much earlier. "Back to Harry", Mace spoke, and the pair vanished.

Voldemort had registered everything Harry had said, but could not move. His eyes fixed on the ceiling, he could only lay there. What now? What was this place that bound his magic? Was Potter truly that clever? NO. That was a lie! And that filthy Muggle... Once he was free, he would show the Muggle the meaning of true power... make him BEG for mercy, and he, Lord Voldemort, would be merciful in the end, and take his life.

"Reaching delivery point," came a female voice.

"Copy that, Icarus," came the voice of the Muggle.

"What happens now?" came Potter's voice.

"Icarus, detach the payload."

"Yes, Mace."

There came a series of loud CLUNK sounds, although to Voldemort, it sounded like it came from all over.

"Payload detached," came Mace's voice.

"Copy," came another voice.

"Still have the coin Harry gave you?"

"Fuck off, of course I do!"

"Don't wait too long, Capa. Do what you gotta do and get back to us."

"Now commencing return journey," came the woman's voice, "Four minutes to detonation."

"Copy, Icarus," said Capa, "Everything's set, on my way back." There came a small sizzle from somewhere below. Voldemort was alone at the centre of the biggest bomb in human history.

Landing on the flight deck, Capa quickly took the vacant seat at the control console. Mace was already monitoring a screen of his own. Harry held the very small phoenix in his hands; it appeared to be content there, given the severity of the situation.

"So, fuck head. What gave you the brainy idea to bring a dangerous SNAKE on board our ship?" Capa was pissed.

"Look. I'm sorry. It... it was a last-minute plan, and I had to go with it. And about Kaneda... I feel terrible... saving his life the first time, it was more costly to me than you'll ever know... and to have him killed in spite of that..." Harry reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a calming draught. "You guys need one?"

"Please." Harry passed that one to Mace, and pulled out a second potion. "This one too. It'll help you recover from the Cruciatus curse."

"That's what that was? It felt like-"

"Being stabbed over every inch of your body. I know. He's used it on me a few times. One of my friends, his parents were tortured to insanity with it. I'm sorry he was able to do that."

"Sure. But think. What would've happened if we'd all been killed. Your mission would have failed, and so would ours!"

"It... it was a risk I had to take. Put yourself in my shoes. What would you do?"

"No, it's-"

"No, he's right, Capa. As pissed as I am right now, fuck he's so right."

"Three minutes to detonation," Icarus intoned.

"Copy," said Mace.

"What happens now?"

"Eighteen months of a return trip for us."

"I can probably make some sort of connection so you guys won't be the only two up here. Even with someone to talk to, you might go bonkers with just the pair of you."

"I appreciate that. Mad as I am at you right now, Harry, I'm glad we met."

"Sure been through hell together, that's one thing," Capa agreed.

"He did save my life at least twice, yours at least once... saved the ship from being destroyed. I guess we can call you a friend." For the first time, Mace gave a genuine smile. Harry easily reciprocated, seeing the weight lifting from his shoulders. The job wasn't finished yet, but they were a matter of minutes away.

* * *

Voldemort was still focused on the ceiling, although very much dazed from the blow to the head. It was then he saw a single spark light up overhead. Then it doubled, and doubled again... the process repeating over and over, until... a brilliant white light, and a warm blast washed over him. It was the last thing he ever saw or felt. The heat blast instantly vaporized the small box containing the remainder of his Horcruxes, as well as the other objects left in the payload.

* * *

Back on the Icarus II, Harry had just turned to visit the crew's mess, when the entire ship shook violently. The air was pierced instantly with at least a dozen alarms.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mace cursed, as his display lit up with dozens of faults.

"Structural integrity failure immanent," Icarus warned, "Damage to heat shield. Structural damage in oxygen garden."

"Shit!"

"Guys. The new port key. Now."

"The one into your container."

"Right," Harry answered. Capa pulled out his galleon coin, and all put a finger on it. "Harry's new home," he said, and they vanished in a blur of limbs. Only seconds later, the Icarus II blew itself apart in spectacular fashion, the debris being instantly incinerated by the heat of the sun.

* * *

_Sydney, Australia – Eight minutes later_

A woman and her children were out for a walk on that cold, dim afternoon. The waning sun had cast the planet into an everlasting winter for most places, with only that around the immediate equator retaining any sense of warmth. It had been the driving force behind her brother's work, and his three-year journey into space. She had, of course, seen the last video transmission he'd sent home. Now, as she happened to look up, the sky suddenly brightened. His last words came to mind:

"_So if you wake up one morning and it's a particularly beautiful day, you'll know we made it. Okay... I'm signing out. And I'll see you in a couple of years_" Her brother had done it, but somehow, she knew they would not see them again. The sun would be his epitaph.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: So, there it is. Voldemort is gone, his Horcruxes are gone, and so is the Icarus II. At least Voldemort did see the light at the end... sorry, just had to say that. Now, I do start tying up a few loose ends. Of course, question is, will the magical ancestors allow the Temporal Displacement Device to be destroyed?_

_I had planned on saving Kaneda—I had done so once already. Unfortunately, some things do write themselves. We all know exactly what kind of wizard Tom Riddle is. A fourth party suddenly interrupting wasn't gonna bode well._

_Part of Harry's fight with Voldemort was most certainly inspired by the scene in the last movie. They did fight hand-to-hand briefly. And in the case above, having his magic unexpectedly crippled would force him to do that, right?_


	52. In Damnatio Memoraie

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_I should point out, prologue has been changed significantly, since the final direction I'm headed has changed a bit. Those who have been with me since I first started posting this story may want to back up and have a look._

_Posted February 27, 2012._

* * *

**-CHAPTER 51-**

**IN DAMNATIO MEMORAIE**

**Or, Harry does a little bit of pruning**

* * *

The Magical Ancestors knew something was wrong. The ground around them began to shake violently, as the sky began to darken, a black void closing in from all directions.

"NO! NO, no, no, not possible!" shouted one.

"he has done the unthinkable!" another cry.

"That could not have happened! The device is indestructible!"

"Well clearly, your wonderful protege seems to have found a way. Now what do we do? Our world is about to be destroyed, you dimwit!"

"Stop! None of this arguing will get us anywhere. The device cannot be destroyed, this we all know. It has been put in a location that impairs its function. Call it back and return it to your protege. And perhaps we do need to have a word, before he does something equally stupid."

"Could teach him a lesson. Send him back to Nirn. I'm sure Mehrunes Dagon would love a crack at him. Or a little later in their time line, Alduin."

"Do not discuss my wayward son," came a booming voice. The others only frowned. Another protested, "No, you can't mean that. Their universe construct is not a place for our young wizard."

"He's already been there, what is one more visit?"

"Perhaps another death might carry more weight," came a more sinister opinion, "Perhaps one of his new friends."

"He already resents us enough, Akeldama(1). Eywa is already most upset at his most recent loss. Akira Kaneda should not have died, he was not part of the debt the protege was required to pay. We are indebted to the young wizard now."

"But Troy Mace(2) should have. As should have Robert Capa. It still balances out in the end, you know this!" said another member of the group, "None of them were supposed to survive."

"Rules must be bent, in the case of the protege."

"Call the bloody device back here before we are destroyed. I believe he will get the message loud and clear."

"Allow me," said Akeldama. "Don't worry, your protege won't be harmed. I make no promises toward his friends and followers." The others tried to protest, but the wizard was already gone, a dark plume of smoke briefly marking where he stood. The assembled number visually shivered. Akeldama was not known for kindness. Her dealings always left a swath of destruction.

"Perhaps we should think about assigning a new champion. Harry Potter is poisoned toward us now."

* * *

Harry, Mace, and Capa landed rather awkwardly in the middle of the new common room in Harry's container. Harry instantly found himself in a death-grip of a hug, courtesy of Cedric. Matt piled on, and Bill followed immediately after.

"What happened? Why don't the radios work anymore? Where were you, what happened?"

"GUYS! Merlin's Pants, if I can breathe for a minute!" Harry huffed. He found himself relieved of Fawkes, thanks to Bill.

"What the hell happened to you?" Matt asked.

"Nothing I can't fix." Harry looked like he'd been in a brutal fight, not having the chance to cast any healing charms.

"I shall floo Madam Pomfrey." Harry was astonished to find both Dumbledore and McGonagall were present. Norm and Dr. Patel were also there, as was Jiro and Zachariah.

"Voldemort is dead. His Horcruxes are destroyed."

"Burned by the heat of the sun, sir," Mace threw in, at last getting to his feet. He offered Capa a hand, and it was readily accepted.

"Harry. We are so proud of you, son." His parents' portrait once again hung above the fireplace. Harry smiled broadly. "It was risky, but it worked beyond my wildest dreams."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly, and the news appeared to actually de-age him. "Harry, if we might have a look at the memory of your battle." He fished into his robes, and pulled out a small vial. Harry was already drawing out a silvery strand from his temple.

"How is Dobby?"

"Nothing Madam Pomfrey wasn't able to fix. He quite readily returned to your trunk here as soon as he was able," said Dumbledore, as Harry deposited the silvery strand into the vial. Mace and Capa looked on with rapt fascination.

"What happened to the radio system?" Norm asked, "Everything just died suddenly."

"My doing. After I lured Voldemort to the Icarus II, I severed the connection back here so he couldn't escape. Professor, he was actually afraid when I told him. I could see it in his eyes."

"And how did you lure the Dark Lord to... wherever you were?" questioned McGonagall.

"I forcibly Apparated Nagini there first. I strongly suspected Tom had put tracking charms on her, and would be able to follow. I was right. Just after she died, Tom showed up."

"Pretty gutsy tactic, prongslet," said James.

"Risky, but yeah, it worked in the end. Everything's done. The devices are gone, and Tom Riddle is dead for good. He won't be coming back this time, there's no part of him to recover." Harry began gesturing at himself, healing the number of cuts and scrapes he'd earned during his fight with Voldemort.

"Let me help," Bill offered.

"How were you able to force Nagini to you?" questioned Dumbledore.

"It was one of the capabilities of the Temporal Displacement Device. I could send anyone within a five-hundred metre radius into the hub without knowing them. Knowing them, distance didn't matter, nor did my relationship with them. I simply grabbed her tail and we went back to the Icarus II."

"Still want to clobber you for doing that, Harry," said Capa, shaking his head.

"And sir, sorry about Fawkes. He took a killing curse for me."

"And I daresay, he would do it again. You have a strong bond with him, Harry."

"His help has been timely, professor. Now I don't really want to relive what I've just gone through. Just view the memory, it's got everything from when I left Pandora up to now. Professor McGonagall, don't you have classes to see to?"

"I cancelled my classes for Order business, Potter. Namely, determining your whereabouts."

"Sorry I fucked up your schedule." McGonagall pursed her lips at his foul language.

"Perhaps we should allow Harry to catch his breath, we can have a discussion at length later on."

"Yeah, that would be fine with me, Professor."

Harry watched, as both professors used the floo to return to Hogwarts. This was yet another shock for his two new friends.

Mace flat-out denied what he'd witnessed. "That didn't just happen."

"Trust your eyes. It's the floo network. It's a standard method of Wizarding transportation," Harry explained.

"Believe me, it's even more fucked up to experience it personally," said Matt, rolling his eyes.

"All right, play nice guys. The Icarus II was destroyed, so..."

"I can build a couple of rooms," Bill offered.

"Excellent. In a few days, we'll figure something out."

"What do you guys know? As in, what did you do?" Norm asked.

"Physicist," said Capa.

"P.H.d.?"

"No."

"Then you can't-"

"Trust me, he can," said Mace, "As for me, engineering."

"We could put you guys to work at Hell's Gate. Loads of shit to do," said Dr. Patel.

"We'll sort that all out in a few days. God, the whole experience this past ninety-six hours has been out of this world, figuratively and physically!"

"No kidding there, mate." Cedric leaned in and kissed Harry on the cheek. "Gods, you put us all in a right state when you disappeared, you know."

"Sorry... but it had to be me alone. I couldn't risk losing any of you. And had I had my way, I would have chased everyone off the Icarus II first. But I just didn't know of a good excuse, so I had to risk it." He faced Capa and Mace. "Again I'm sorry I did that... I have blood on my hands at least once there. Thing is, as dirty a job it was, it was mine to do. Tom had to be destroyed, and it's done and over-with. Still got some Death Eaters to hunt down, but with Tom gone, it should be a little easier."

* * *

September 24 was cool and overcast, as Harry and his friends attended the first of several funerals, this one for his godfather. There were a number of speakers, as he most certainly had the respect of those who knew him. Many tears were shed as he was put in the ground, and the boy-become-man was in a most foul temperament for the rest of the day. He ended up returning to the Tree of Souls to ground himself.

"Cory would have loved this place." Harry turned to find Mace and Capa, with Bill chaperoning them. Both had breathing packs, likely provided by Norm or Dr. Patel.

"Cory?"

"Corazon," Mace clarified, "She was the only one of us who didn't use the Earth Room. She had real earth to retreat to in the Oxygen Garden."

"Yeah, I could see that. She was devastated by the fire. You've met Jake and his partner yet?"

"A few days ago," said Capa, "He said, 'any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine'."

"Yep, sounds like Jake. A solid guy, natural leader."

"Like you are, mate." Bill walked up and put his arms around Harry's waist. "Harry, whether you like it or not, you will always be the spearhead of change in our world."

"Really don't want that responsibility, Bill. God... I've been at war now for eleven years. I'd like, just for a while, to have a simple go at things. Attend classes, enjoy the company of my friends and mates... finish Hogwarts, maybe do a little travelling. Maybe THEN I'll think about my future. And the biggest thing on my plate right now, is dealing with Sirius and... you know." The lump hitched in his throat, as the pain of loss welled to the surface. He closed his eyes, and again wrapped a tendril from the tree around the end of his wand, allowing the calming energy from the great tree flow into him. Both of his new friends could see the effect it was having.

Harry opened his eyes. "Bill. It's not official yet, but I know Sirius willed me the Black estate. Something I never got a chance to do before I came back in time... I was looking into it but... In damnatio memoraie... You know of it?"

"That's really dark magic, Harry."

"I know it is, and bluntly, I don't give a shit. I want to know how to perform it."

"What is it?" Mace asked.

"In damnatio memoraie... my Latin's a little rusty, but I think it means, 'Condemned in memory'," said Capa.

"The exact translation. Except in the Wizarding world, it's an outcasting ritual... it's used by the head of the family to expel someone from it. Their name, any familial gifts, even any family magic is forcibly stripped from them. Harry, if the Ministry—"

"Bill. The ministry can fuck off. I know it's something the Ministry can't stop me from doing, it's my right as the head of the house of Black."

"I'll see if I can locate a tome with the details."

"Fuck, Harry. Remind me never to cross you." Mace only shook his head. How many enemies did he have, anyway? Better question, what did the person do to earn that sort of response?

"I know what you're thinking. Trust me, the woman has earned this kind of punishment many times over."

"Belletrix Lestrange," Bill guessed, to which Harry gave a nod. "Got it in one. And something else I can do, is step in as a guardian for Draco."

Bill arched an eyebrow. "what would you do that for?"

"Get him adult rights. He can gain provisional head rights as well. See if he's really wanting to start over." He uncoiled the tendril from around his wand, then produced his clone. "Pop back to the trunk. See if you can find Matt and Cedric. Think I'm gonna spend the night here."

"Shall I attend class in the morning? It'll be a Monday."

"Yes, definitely. I'll make sure to send Matt along in the morning. I think we should also provide a little entertainment for our DADA class." Mace and Capa were amazed, as the clone gestured to himself, and the guy's appearance seemed to morph, from a man to a teenager.

"I'm supposed to be fifteen, not twenty-seven," Harry explained, seeing their confusion.

"IN other words, it's a secret. No one outside of Harry's trunk knows about this appearance." Bill gestured to Harry, who still looked twenty-seven.

Harry was in luck that evening, as the fireside chatter was once again boisterous, the clan feasting on roast Strumbeest. The food and drink flowed quite freely.

"Harry. My friend." Jake claimed one of the big pillows Harry had conjured for the evening.

"Honorary brother."

"We've located a new home tree."

"Really?"

"It's about sixty kilometres west of here. It's about the same size as the one we had."

"That's wonderful news. If you need anything—"

"We've got everything in hand, but thank you. We will be moving there in a week or so."

"I'll have to bring a housewarming gift, then," Harry joked, to which Jake laughed.

As Harry at last began to stir the following morning, his eyes fell on his two new friends. Bill had replaced the breathing pack with a bubble-head head charm (although these ones only covered the mouth and nose) early the previous evening so they could eat and drink without the mask getting in the way. The pair of them were crushed up against each other, with Bill passed out across them. He found himself pinned in between Matt and Cedric, their heads resting on his shoulders.

His head was pounding from the powerful intoxicant, but it was worth it in the end. The drink and merriment was a release, a chance for joy to seep back into his person. It had truly been a few very dark days, but perhaps, things might get a little brighter from then on.

He felt Matt stir. Knowing he would need to attend class, he only drank a little. He was still buzzing somewhat.

"Here. Anti-hangover draught, and a sobering draught."

"Great."

"_Tempus_," Harry spoke. '5:38 a' wafted from the end of his finger.

"Well, those two had fun last night." Matt gestured to Mace and Capa.

"Well, remember how your band mates behaved. I'll be sure to loan them some extra strength mouth-wash."

"That's blackmail material, mate," Cedric said, sleepily. He found two potions pressed into his hand. "Unlikely they'll help, but..."

"Why shouldn't they?"

"This shit's rather resistant to potions. We gave it to Umbridge... a week ago now. She was pretty ill."

"Maybe that's why she went off on your trunk."

"You mean, she knew it was me? Doubt it. But, as the saying goes, lather, rinse, repeat." That got a laugh out of Matt, and a confused look from Cedric. "Oh. Muggle saying. Err... repeat the process."

"Right, gotcha."

Sometime later, Mace at last stirred, letting out a snort. He blinked, bloodshot eyes at Harry.

"Fucking hell."

"Good morning," Harry grinned. That earned a rude gesture. "Your mother kiss that mouth?"

"I dunno about his mother, but Capa here certainly didn't have issue with it," Matt threw in. Another evil glare from the engineer.

"I'd be careful. He knocked Voldemort silly with a flashlight. I don't think he was really all there for his final moments." Harry let out a little giggle at the thought. The worst Dark Lord in recent memory, dummied by a Muggle flashlight.

"Right. Both of you, fuck off."

"Here. Probably won't do a whole lot, but it's better than nothing at all." Harry passed over another pair of potions, which Mace readily accepted and consumed.

"Shoot me, Mace," said Capa. His head felt ten times its normal size, and every sound registered loud and painfully.

"C'mon, you're not dead yet," said Harry, with a grin. Another pair of potions were passed over.

"Wish I was." He gagged at the taste of the potions, and passed over the empty vials.

At that moment, the clone popped in. "Ready to go to breakfast?" He gestured at Matt.

"Yeah, ready as I will be." He kissed Harry on the cheek, and stood up. He took the clone's hand, and they popped away.

"Still incredible you guys can do that." Capa was still awed by the magical world, and even more so, now he'd seen Pandora.

"You've not seen nothing yet," answered Matt, shaking his head, "You're in a pretty exclusive club now."

"Not many Muggles know of us. Which reminds me, later on I have to apply a secrecy charm on the both of you."

"What for?" asked Mace.

"As I said, not many Muggles know of us. It's because of a Wizarding law. Muggles aren't supposed to know of us. So I have to make it so you can't talk about the magical world with someone who doesn't already know of it. Make sense?"

"Sure."

"It won't hurt. I can tell you that much... God, I feel like a broken record."

"He's said that to me, my band mates... who else... oh, Norm and his friends..."

"Billy. He's gone, but... you get the point, right? That's why I got rid of those fucking devices. There'll be no more of... this..." he gestured to Mace and Capa.

"Fuck off, we've been over that before. WE would've died had it not been for you." It was then Bill finally woke up and attempted to sit up.

"Oh... hello," he said, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He'd let his hair out of its usual pony-tail... or had Capa done that? No, it was Matt.

"Now how about moving your ass so we can get up?"

"Right." Bill scrambled to his feet, then fell flat on his arse, knocked over by a strong bout of vertigo. Harry giggled at Bill's predicament, knowing all too well what that felt like. Bill frowned a moment, but then laughed, knowing what Harry was thinking.

"Somehow... doubt we're going far today," said Bill, making himself comfortable on one of the cushions.

"Your... um... friends here, they won't mind?" Capa gestured to the scattering of Na'vi, some of which were already up.

"No. They treat me as a member of the family, I think. Already spent more than a few nights here... and I helped them defend themselves against a Muggle threat. Won't get into it, it was unpleasant... but thing is... the people here all respect me."

"And if the Wizarding world doesn't learn to do that, Harry's likely to flee here for good."

"Cedric's right. If I can't make the ministry change, I'll wash my hands of the Wizarding world for good. I could easily live the rest of my life here. Bring along anyone who I care about... God, here I go again, I said all this before."

After supper, Harry got a full update as to how Dark Arts Defence went that afternoon. Turns out it was a near identical performance. Harry's clone again led the lesson, to the appreciation of the rest of the class, while the intoxicated professor lay passed out at her desk.

Ron and Hermione had already had some sort of reunion with Harry earlier, and so their reconnection wasn't quite as much as it could have been. Still, Harry appreciated the concern from his second and third friend in the Wizarding world.

That shorter reunion was interrupted, as the flames in the fireplace turned green, and Dumbledore's head appeared. "Harry?"

"Oh, hello professor."

"Could you please step through to my office? And bring your new friend... Mr... Mace, is it?"

"That's me, sir," Mace offered.

"Ah, very good. Amelia Bones would like to speak with you both."

"We'll come straight through." Dumbledore's head vanished from the flames. "Right. Bill, you mind coming along? As much as I trust Dumbledore, things could still go pear-shaped."

"'course."

"Capa, stay here. Hey Ron... why don't you set up your chess board."

"You play?"

"Sure."

Harry, meanwhile, led Mace over to the fireplace. "Okay. It looks terrifying, but really, just hold onto me until we go out the other end. Got it?"

"Sure." Harry took a fistful of floo powder from the pot hanging on the side of the fireplace, and threw it in the fire, causing it to flare up, and turn a brilliant green colour. "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!" he called out, then grabbed Mace about the midsection, and they both plunged into the flames.

It was one of the craziest things Mace had ever experienced. Dozens of floo grates were flying by in rapid succession. Soot was going up his nose, his eyes were now watering and he desperately needed to sneeze... and they were ejected rather forcefully to slide across the floor and land in a heap. He found himself lifted to his feet by a tall, black man. He reacted by going into a violent sneezing fit.

"So much for an elegant landing," Harry muttered, and spelled the soot off Mace's clothes. "Professor."

"Good of you to come. You of course know Madam Bones, and Auror Shacklebolt."

"Of course." Harry inclined his head to the witch and wizard.

"Mr. Potter. Professor Dumbledore has shared a rather startling pensieve memory with me. I asked him to summon you so we may discuss it," Madam Bones began.

"I'll answer whatever I can."

"That is also why I have asked Mr. Mace, is it?"

"Troy Mace, ma'am."

"And you are not at all magical?"

"No, ma'am."

"Extraordinary. What is it exactly you used to strike the Dark Lord?"

"It's called a flashlight. You English folks call it a torch, I think. It's got batteries in it and shit like that, so it's a bit heavy. It was the best thing I could find... wanted my shot to count."

"Tom didn't move after that. I think Mace might have caused brain damage... quite honestly, I'm glad he did it. Tom was strangling the life out of me just before."

"Unofficially, you have the thanks of the entire Wizarding world, Mr. Mace. Although I am certain Mr. Potter has explained the gravity of your actions. Officially, the Ministry will have great difficulty accepting the actions of a Muggle."

"At this point, I wouldn't expect anything different," said Harry, "With Fudge the way he is, he'd be more likely to crucify Mace rather than admit he helped out. It would be easier for him to claim he was actually aiming for me, rather than Tom."

"That does sound like his style," Shacklebolt agreed.

"The next question I have, where exactly did this happen?" Mace opened his mouth to answer, but Harry cut across him. "None of this can leave this room. There are things that if they should come out, I, or he-" Harry gestured at Mace, "-could end up being dissected by the Department of Mysteries."

"You have my word," said Madam Bones.

"And mine," added Shacklebolt.

That resulted in a lengthy explanation of Icarus II's mission to restart the sun, and a much more in-depth explanation of the Temporal Displacement Device. Madam Bones was shocked such a thing had existed, and somewhat angered Harry had chose to destroy it. However, with a further explanation, she also understood his reasoning. The device was causing too much grief... and should it fall into the wrong hands, the cost could be devastating. With this new knowledge, she gained a new level of respect for the young man before her, and his new friend.

* * *

The following morning, while Harry's clone went to class with Matt, Harry, Bill, Capa, and Mace returned to Hell's Gate, to visit the only prisoner now in the lock-up. Two men stood watch, one of a few SecOps security members to remain behind after RDA was effectively evicted from Pandora.

The man inside the cell was burned from head to toe. Mace figured it was from repeated exposure to the sun—he'd seen the man up close back on the Icarus II. The scientists at Hell's Gate had at least given him clothes so he would have decency. A dicta-quill was produced, and the pen was poised to start writing.

"So. We finally get the chance to have a little chat, Mr. Pinbacker," said Harry, lightly. His eyes betrayed his anger, however. "You murdered three of my friends, jeopardized not only their mission-" Harry gestured to Mace and Capa, "-you also jeopardized mine. Your interference could have been disastrous."

"Do you not see?" said Pinbacker, "You fly in the face of God-" Harry burst out laughing. Pinbacker couldn't understand what might be so funny. Neither could Capa and Mace, for that matter.

Harry at last got it together.

"Oh Merlin, you've got no clue, do you? Tell me, Pinbacker, have you SPOKEN to God? Actually stood in the presence of the Christian deity, face to face? ...didn't think so. You see, I have stood in the presence of a God, and then some. Felt the power of a being infinitely stronger than any of us put together. I have stood before beings with knowledge going back long before modern history ever began. So. What can you tell me, that I don't already know?"

"What are you?" was Pinbacker's simple answer.

"I am a human being, just like you. Some might say I'm short-changing myself, but that's an argument for another time. In the immediate term, this is what happens.

"Although your crimes took place six light years away from here, there is agreement that I do have some amount of authority, since your actions did threaten my well-being as much as it did the crew of the Icarus II. As the protector of Pandora, I level ten charges of murder against you. Trey did not commit suicide, the three of us know that for now. Unless you would like to prove otherwise."

"..."

"Thought not. Additionally, by removing the Icarus II's mainframe panels from its cooling tank, you put Mace's life in peril. A charge of attempted murder shall be levied."

"Under what authority?"

"The legalities of it you wouldn't understand, Mr. Pinbacker—I refuse to recognize the rank of someone who acts against their own crew. That said, there is only one more thing I must do before judgement is passed. _Legilimens_!"

For Pinbacker, it was bordering on painful, as a series of memories flashed in front of his mind's eye: memories of him tricking the other crew members of the Icarus I into visiting the observation room, and his subsequent sabotage, resulting in everyone being burned to death by the sun. The memory of him sneaking aboard the Icarus II while the crew was investigating the other spaceship. His sabotaging of the airlock, causing the two vessels to break apart. The murders of Trey, Corazon, and Cassie. The removal of the Icarus II's mainframe from the coolant tank. There the memories stopped.

"A vial, Harry." Bill offered a small vial, and Harry began to draw out the memory of the memories. The silvery gas-like substance was dropped into the vial, and stoppered.

"Perfect. The official record of your crimes, Mr. Pinbacker. Before I pass sentence, do you care to do the right thing, and at least apologize for what you've done?"

"I have nothing to apologize for. Who are we, to stop God's work?"

"So mote it be, then. Mr. Pinbacker, I contemplated exactly what should be done with you. The keeper of the keys believes I should just cast a magical eviction on you, have you blasted into space, and let the vacuum of space take you.

I, on the other hand, feel there is a far more fitting fate. In Loco Perentis grants me the power to deal with law-breakers. Under that authority, finding you guilty of ten counts of murder and one count of attempted murder, direct that you, Mr. Pinbacker, be delivered Azkaban prison, where you will spend the rest of your natural life. May the Great Mother have mercy on you, both now and in the afterlife. So mote it be."

"Rot in hell, fucker," Mace spat. Capa only gave him the coldest look of hatred he could muster, as the group stepped away from the cell.

"How long will it take?" Capa finally asked, when they were out of earshot.

"Depends on how quickly I can make arrangements. Dumbledore will likely be able to pull some strings on my behalf. I mean, Madam Bones will likely help as well, although she doesn't know about Pandora."

"So all that shit that just happened... what are you, a Governor or something?" Mace questioned.

"Something like that. It was done so no one from Earth in this universe can ever come here again. I act for the most part like an agent of the Ministry."

"The same Ministry you curse and swear at on a regular basis?"

"One in the same. I know it sounds bonkers, but that's how it is. Not everything in the Ministry is fucked up, just parts of it. It's weeding out the bad shit."

"Know this though," said Bill, "Not too often Muggles get sent to Azkaban. They don't usually live all that long. Their existence is a waking nightmare."

* * *

_Dawn, October 31, 1995_

The intervening days and weeks had flown by, and Harry's new friends had settled into new lives, helping out at Hell's Gate. Both Dr. Patel and Norm appreciated the extra pairs of hands.

A week earlier, the Minister himself had pulled Harry aside during lunch, bringing him the will of Sirius Black. Even though he had been locked away in Azkaban, he'd not been officially charged with a crime, let alone convicted of one, and therefore the will was found to be valid. There was nothing the Ministry could do to prevent its execution. Harry indeed inherited just about all of the estate, with a little bit of money being shuttled to the Malfoys and the Tonks'.

Now, Harry had cleared the floor in the common room, marking a large circle. The ritual would work any time, of course, but to enact something as he was about to do on this particular day? It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Harry?"

"Oh... Hi, Mace."

"What's this?"

"Gonna cause a certain crazy witch a whole lot of pain."

"The outcast ritual."

"Right." Harry checked the time again, and drew out a page of parchment. Mace watched as he wrote a single name on the page: Belletrix Lestrange nae Black. Now Mace understood the connection. She was a Black, so somehow, he had power over her. The magical nature, he figured.

"Our names have power to them. She was born as Belletrix Black, and even though she married, she still has Black blood in her. At least for the moment."

"Will it hurt?"

"Hope so. Might sound malicious and vindictive, but the woman deserves every ounce of pain she gets. The woman is crazy and cruel." He paused, and drew his wand, dragged it across the tip of his finger, speaking, "Diffindo." The end of his finger split open, and a squirt of blood welled up. Smearing it on the parchment, he spoke, "Ancestors of magic, hear my plea. I, rightful head of the ancient and noble house of Black, proclaim the one named on this parchment, Belletrix Lestrange, nae Black, to be in contempt of the house. For her crime of acting against the best interests of the family, and for the most evil and heinous crime of murdering the former head of my house, I therefore name Belletrix Lestrange, nae Black, to be in Damnatio Memoraie. Her name is to be from hence forth erased from the Black name, to be forgotten forever." As Harry spoke the last part, he touched the parchment to the candle lit in front of him. It flared into flames, which instantly turned black. "Ancients of magic, hear my plea. In Damnatio Memoraie, Belletrix No-name." The candles blew out.

"H-harry? Blimey, that's dark magic!" Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione, standing by the entry way. Both looked somewhere between disgusted and horrified.

"Blood magic. As the head of the house of Black, it's my right, guys. You know I'd never do that sort of thing out of fun, right? Even now... I feel like I need a shower."

"Harry... you know you're bleeding right?" Mace pointed to Harry's still bleeding finger.

"Right. _Episkey_." The wound instantly vanished.

* * *

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire -_

Voldemort's Death Eaters still had no clue what had become of their master. A few had a strong suspicion, given their Dark Marks were beginning to fade. Needless to say, they were all on edge.

So, when Belletrix began screaming suddenly for no apparent reason, it was mass hysteria. It sounded like the woman was being brutally murdered. Avery dared throw open the door to her room, and was stunned at what he saw: The Dark Lord's first lieutenant was suspended in mid-air, what looked like a stream of blood syphoning off of her, disappearing up through the ceiling. She was screaming and writhing, as the strange curse attacked her.

It finally ceased about five minutes after, and only then did Avery realize what he had witnessed: the outcast ritual. The new head of the house of Black had just expelled her from the family. Her survival was iffy at best.

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: I have one more chapter to go, and a final epilogue. Both are written, and will be posted shortly._

_(1) Akeldama – Meaning, "Field of Blood". In the Bible, this was the place Judas committed suicide._

_(2)My own substitute here. Anyone knows Mace's correct first name, I'd love to have a shout-out. C'mon, Sunshine fans, I know you're out there!  
_


	53. An Ending To Things II

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted June 28, 2010._

_Spoilers for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_

* * *

**-CHAPTER 52- **

**AN ENDING TO THINGS II**

**Or, Harry finally has his limit with the Wizarding world**

* * *

"Good afternoon class," said Professor Sprout, "Hurry up, please... very good. Today we will be reviewing the properties of Mandrake." Herbology was the last class of the day, and they were in greenhouse three once again.

"Ugh, not these things again."

"Yes, miss Parkinson, this material will be on your O.W.L. At the end of the year. Ear muffs on, hurry it up now."

"Like this," Harry said, helping Matt put on a pair of black ear muffs that rested on the bench. That earned a sneer out of some of the Slytherins at the next bench. Professor Sprout looked around, ensuring everyone was wearing a pair of ear-muffs. "Very good. Now have at it. Re-pot your Mandrakes. Pots are under your bench..."

"This is easy," said Harry, pressing a finger to his radio collar, "It's just like any other gardening chore. Watch." Harry grasped the plant firmly, and pulled it out.

To Matt's shock, it wasn't so much a root, but a baby-like creature that had been buried in the soil. Exposed to the light, it began to wail quite loudly, its cries could be heard even with the hearing protection.

"Harry, what the hell is that?" came Norm's voice.

"Mandrake root."

"Sounds awful," came Jake's voice. A few others also voiced their discomfort at the horrible sound.

"Sorry guys." Harry took his finger away from the collar, returning his focus to the task at hand. The plant was forced into the larger pot, and quickly covered with soil.

"Very good, very good," Professor Sprout spoke, or more like, shouted, so everyone could hear, "Ear muffs off."

"That was..." Matt began, after removing his hearing protection.

"Horrible, we know," said Hermione, "But the plant is really useful. Harry did tell you what happened to us in second year, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Why not put a silencing charm on them though?"

"Ask."

"Professor."

"Yes, Mr. Tyson."

"Just curious, why don't we cast a silencing charm on them before disturbing them?"

"An excellent question, five points to Gryffindor. As to the answer. Casting any sort of charms on the plant at this age is likely to reduce the potency or effects. Given the value of the Mandrake, we can't take the risk. Now-" Professor Sprout didn't get to finish, as there was a loud whistling sound that grew louder by the second.

Then, with a whirl of limbs, Mace appeared on the floor in front of Harry, horribly injured, his clothes in tatters. Harry hand no chance to react, as there was a tremendous crash, and a chunk of metal slammed into the side of the greenhouse. It was completely engulfed in flames, and the impact threw everyone to the floor. The radio exploded with traffic. Harry was thrown on top of Mace, and Matt was sent flying, having taken a chunk of metal that had belonged to the greenhouse framing, straight through the chest. Hermione, having quickly realized the danger, had yanked both Ron and Draco down to the floor, that act saving their lives.

"Harry? What's going on?"

"What was that?"

"Fire fire! Fire in the stereo lithography plant!" A symphony of alarms could be heard in the background.

"Fire in the armory!" came another shout.

"We have damage to the tower, clear out now!" came Zachariah's panicked voice.

"Never mind that, holy fuck! Systems down, systems down," came another voice, likely one of the technicians.

"Emergency masks, everyone, NOW!" came Norm's panicked voice.

"We're gonna lose—" came Capa's voice, and the radio fell silent.

"Mr. Potter..."

"Madam... Pomfrey... right away..." Harry managed.

"Harry? What... what happened?" Seamus dared ask, "Who... who's this?"

Only then did Harry realize who it was. Mace had activated his port key, and somehow it had brought him here. How had it worked? The destination was invalid now, wasn't it? The guy was unconscious, his eyes having rolled up into the back of his head, and Harry immediately felt for a pulse. It was tremendously weak, and he quickly understood why. A pool of blood was forming on his left side.

"_Episkey_." The wound closed at once, but judging by the amount of blood, Harry was forced to make a decision. "Fucking hell." He grabbed one of Mace's hands and split open his palm. The guy would die there in the greenhouse if he didn't act. "My blood, given freely..." he intoned.

Mace's only vision at this point consisted of one thing: a brilliant blast of green magic, which faded gradually to white.

"She's gone too far!" a voice shouted, off in the distance.

"How could you do such a thing! He resents us enough as it is, this will doom us all!" came another.

"The boy will understand, there is no avoiding the task he must complete. His rebelling against us was not wise," spoke Akeldama, malice in her voice. "I only did what you _sniveling_ _fools_ could not."

"Akeldama. He will take action against us. Can you not see?" Mace's vision faded for a moment, and Harry's face filled his field of view.

"My blood, given freely, so you may live."  
"Wha?"  
"Shhh... just relax."  
"Blimey mate, that's... that's blood magic!" Seamus exclaimed, realizing the ramifications.  
"Quiet, all of you. Neville, go fetch Madam Pomfrey," Professor Sprout instructed. She had been thrown to the floor, but finally took charge of the situation.  
"HARRY!" Hermione literally shrieked, gesturing wildly. Harry diverted his vision, even though he held Mace's hand firmly. He almost dropped it in shock. Matt lay slammed against a worktable, a piece of iron jutting out of his chest at an odd angle.  
"Noooooo!"  
"G-g-go to him... I'll... I'll be okay," Mace managed. Harry broke the connection between them, quickly healing the wound on his hand, as well as his own. He scrambled over to where Matt lay.  
"H-harry..."  
"Matt... just hold on, it'll be okay." Harry quickly banished the piece of metal embedded in his chest. The wound was terrible.  
"Harry. J-j-j-just... I love you."  
"NO. You're not going to die." He searched his pockets for a blood-replenishing potion, but found none. He then grabbed Matt's hand, much as he'd just done to Mace, preparing to slice it open. But Matt only smiled. "No. It's... okay. I'm glad I met you."  
"No... I can't..."  
"You did it, Harry. You beat him. I'm... g-g-glad to know you, b-b—best wizard... best person I ever knew. Let me go... I know you're safe now."  
"It's not... fair."  
"I know... remember me... always..." His speech was becoming slow, and it became difficult for him to breathe. Professor Sprout had hurried over, as Matt had been more than acceptable as a student. "Madam Pomfrey is on the way."  
"It... it'll be too late, Professor. K-k-k-kiss, me, Harry." Harry felt the warm tears filling his eyes, but he obliged his mate's request, their lips meeting for one last time.

Madam Pomfrey was nearly stunned at the scene she came upon, as she stepped into greenhouse three. A number of students had certainly been injured, but only a few needed immediate attention. Harry Potter lay on top of his mate, deep sobs wracking his body. A strange man she'd never seen before was doing his best to comfort the boy-who-Lived, not having much success. He looked like he'd been set on fire, the best analysis she could come up with. She immediately dispatched a Patronus to the headmaster, and to Professor Snape. Whatever had happened was beyond her purview.

Dumbledore was thrown for a loop when he Apparated into greenhouse three, having not only received the Patronus message from Professor Sprout, but a strong warning from the wards that students' lives were in danger. The mangled wreckage slammed into the side of the greenhouse was one of Harry's trunks, or a shipping container, as Harry had called it. The flames had gone out by this point, but plumes of smoke still rolled off of it. Harry lay on top of Matt, his cries and wails being the only sound heard at this point. The man he'd only recently met was doing his best to comfort the boy-become-man, but having little success—he himself looking like he'd become a human torch, his clothes being for the most part burned off him.

"Harry?" Dumbledore found Cedric flying toward the disaster, a look of anguish on his face, already sizing up the situation. "What the hell?"

"All of you... back to your dormitories, if you are not injured," Dumbledore directed. No one moved, and he was forced to send a shower of sparks into the air to get everyone's attention. "If you are not injured, return to your dormitories, NOW." Feet shuffled as most of the class did as instructed. Madam Pomfrey was already treating the number of injured students, of which luckily there were only a few.

"Ponoma?" Snape came upon the same carnage as Dumbledore, and immediately set out to help Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore, meanwhile, set on the small group huddled on the floor.

"Mr. Mace?"

"Professor..." The guy was clearly hurt as much as the students Madam Pomfrey was attending to.

"Let us see to Harry. Get yourself looked after."

"No. It's nothing." it was then Dumbledore noticed the fourth person in the pile. Matt was not moving.

"If not yourselves, at least allow us to see to Mr. Tyson."

"Matt's gone," said Mace.

"Gone?" And realization struck.

"Professor, help us... get him back to his trunk."

"N-n-no, not possible," said Mace.

"Why? Why not?" Mace only turned Cedric's face toward the shattered windows of the greenhouse, where the container still lay wedged in the framework. It was then Cedric also noticed the man's wrecked appearance. "What happened?"

"I dunno... just... came back a minute and the whole place blew up. I just... all I could think of was... was this." He showed the expended port key.

"Shouldn't... have worked," Harry mumbled.

"All I know, it worked or I'd be dead. Harry, c'mon, nothing you can do he's gone." Cedric, meanwhile, put an arm around him and pulled him away from Matt's body.

"I will see to Matt's body. Perhaps you three should for now head to Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore suggested. Harry gave a weak nod, gripped his partner and his friend, and they Disapparated.

They landed in the middle of the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermione asked, concerned seeing his condition.

"NO, Hermione, I'm NOT okay!" Harry snarled, rummaging in his pockets for a calming draught. One left. "Kreacher."

POP. "Master Harry! Trunk is being destroyed, it is! Kreacher and Dobby is here at Hogwarts, but Winky did not make it."

"We know, Kreacher. Just... you have my Gringotts key?"

"Of course."

"Take out some Galleons, and fetch us some calming draughts, please."

"Right away, master Harry." Kreacher popped away.

"Mace... sit. Let's get you fixed up." The guy obliged, sitting on one of the couches, while Harry started casting healing charms in rapid succession.

"You... you gave me blood, didn't you?"

"There was an enormous puddle of it on the greenhouse floor. I had... no blood replenishing potions, and even if I did, they wouldn't work on you."

"It's Matt all over again," said Cedric. That got an angry scowl from Harry.

"So what's his story?" Seamus dared ask, "What's he doing here?"

"Piss off, it's none of your business," Harry snapped. He finally finished casting healing charms, then sat heavily in the couch. Cedric quickly joined the pair of them, sliding an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Fine. Fuck you too," Seamus spat, and took off for the dormitory.

"S-sorry," Dean apologized, and took off after.

Soon after that, the common room somewhat emptied, save for Ron and Hermione.

"Mum's still visiting dad at St. Mungo's, so none of us were in the trunk."

"Bill was helping Capa, Jiro and Zack at Hell's Gate," said Mace.

"Yeah, I know. Trying to tie the wards to the computer systems there, though I don't know if that's possible." Harry was also running down the list of trunk occupants. His relatives had been there at the time. Winky had been killed, Kreacher had confirmed that. The twins were in class, as was Ginny, so they were safe. Luna's father had returned to their home to try and get repairs under way, so he was safe. It was the same case for Cedric's parents. Lucas and his family were back where they belonged, so they were safe. So far it looked like the only casualties were his relatives, Winky, and... wait. Matt's band mates. They would have been in there as well. Seven people and one house elf. One of his partners, three close friends, and a sweet house elf named Winky, killed by his trunk system. Mace, of course, had not escaped unscathed, and had it not been for his quick thinking, there would have been an additional death for him to come to terms with. The single question: why?

With a shaking hand, he pressed a finger to the button on his radio collar. "Magic one over." No answer. "Anyone there?" No answer. Mace, however, understood the problem.

"Your, um, devices... when they were destroyed, it destroyed any way of connecting to other places like you've been doing."

"That doesn't make any sense, Mace," Hermione challenged, "Why would that only happen now?"

"It took a while to catch up," said Harry, numbly. What might have been instant in Mace's world, could have taken over a month in Harry's. Or not necessarily between those two worlds, but as a global average. "Then... they're all gone. I..." Mace could see it written on Harry's face: he was destroyed. As Cedric again did his best to comfort the teen, the emotional toll at last caught up, and he fell into the sanctuary of darkness.

"He have a bed here?"

"Up... upstairs," said Ron. Mace got to his feet, and picked the teen up, much to Cedric's surprise. "Show me."

"Right." Cedric could only watch, as the guy carried Harry over his shoulder, following Ron up the stairs to the fifth-year boys' dormitories.

Harry awoke much later, and only finding Cedric spooned up against him prevented him from crying out. Finding two of his oldest friends, as well as his newest, seated close by most certainly bolstered his spirits somewhat. Still, the loss of that day was far worse than the death of Sirius—he'd now lost two of his partners, one of them right before his eyes.

"At least... at least I was able to say good bye," Harry whispered, mostly to himself.

"Harry... here, drink this." Hermione was putting a bottle to his lips, and trusting what she might give him, he consumed the contents, grimacing at the awful taste.

"Everyone else is at the party, but... we couldn't leave you up here alone, mate."

"Thanks guys." Harry managed a weak smile, but his heart was still ripped into a million pieces.

"Harry... don't mean to just, well... but... what are we gonna do? Without the trunk—not that I really care about Malfoy—but still—and I mean, what about..." Ron gestured to Mace. Harry nodded stiffly, and summoned some parchment and an ink pot. He scribbled out a quick note, then summoned Fawkes. "Take this to Dumbledore, please." he thought for a moment, then asked, "Did they pull it out of the greenhouse?"

"I don't know, Harry."

"Should have asked Dumbledore. Guess the best question is, what do you guys want to do? It's just..." the lump rose in his throat, but he forced it down. "Just the five of us now."

"And mum and dad and the twins and Ginny," Ron reminded.

"Looks like I'm looking for a new trunk, then. Hermione, do you mind doing a little digging? Find me a shop that specializes in Wizarding traveling gear."

"Of course!"

"Great. This time, I'm not fucking around. Fidelius charm, and blood wards."

"Harry, for some reason I don't think either of those things would have prevented what happened today," said Hermione, "If what Mace says is right, it was like the universe reset itself, sent things back where they belonged. Maybe a little aggressive, but all the same, wards wouldn't have done a whole lot."

"There was something else. When I was out... I saw this place, there were a bunch of people there, they were all bickering among themselves, but there was a name. Akeldama. Mean anything?"

Harry only shook his head, but Hermione looked perplexed for a moment. She said, "The name's from the Bible. It was the place Judas committed suicide. It means, 'Field of blood'."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest. "Were these people all wearing white robes?"

"Yeah, I think so," answered Mace.

"Magical ancestors."

"Who're they?" asked Cedric.

"I still have no idea either. I think they're the ones who sent me after the Temporal Displacement Device and its various parts."

"Maybe they were pissed because you destroyed their machine," said Ron, with a shrug. That earned him a swat from Hermione, and a scowl from Harry. POP. "Master Harry is missing his supper, so Kreacher be bringing it for him." the elf had brought a tray of various items up from the kitchens.

"Thank you Kreacher." Harry accepted the tray from the old house elf, and watched as he popped away. "Hope the other house elves don't give him a hard time while he's here."

There came another POP, and Dumbledore arrived in the dormitory.

"Good evening, Harry."

"Professor. Didn't mean to pull you away from the party."

"I believe they can make do without me for a few minutes. How are you feeling, my boy?"

"Terrible." Harry went to shift himself so he was sitting up a bit better, and Hermione took the tray holding his dinner so he could do so. "Reason for my message, though. First. With my home being destroyed... Draco will need to be put elsewhere, at least until I can put things back to rights."

"I will mention this to professor Snape. Professor Sprout and I did remove it from the side of the greenhouse. It rests on the lawn, as we were unsure of what you wish to do with it."

"Thank you, professor. That answers another question I had, but leads to my second issue. Most of my school materials and my wardrobe were destroyed. I'll need to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow morning."

"Perfectly acceptable. Just let professor McGonagall know at breakfast before you leave." Dumbledore took a seat on Ron's bed. "Harry, you must know, we are all very proud of you."

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me. I just hope... it was all worth it in the end. Honestly professor, I'm not that much better off than I was when I killed him the first time. Some of you are still alive, but others have already taken their place."

"But Harry, you still have your closest friends, never mind me," Cedric pointed out, stealing a piece of chicken off the plate. "That has to mean something."

"Doesn't lessen the pain, Ced! I can't get back to Pandora. I'll never see Bill again, or Capa, or Jake, or his clan mates. Matt's dead, his band mates are dead, and... just... I'll never be okay with any of it. NEVER." he felt a warm tear escape from one of his eyes, and brushed it away with the sleeve of his sweater. "The others injured this afternoon... everyone's okay?"

"A few are spending a night in the hospital wing, but they should be up for breakfast. Do not be so hard on yourself, Harry, whatever happened this afternoon was most certainly not your fault."

"It's just, if... if only..."

"No, Harry, the professor is right! You couldn't have known this would happen," Hermione protested. The headmaster gave a nod, agreeing with Hermione's comment. "I do have to get back to the feast. I need not tell you, time does heal the pain you are feeling."

"I... I know, professor."

"And Mr. Diggory. Given your, relationship with Harry, you are exempted from the requirement that you return to your own dormitory at curfew."

"Thank you, professor."

"Of course, we do ask that you keep your activities to those which do not disturb the others who sleep here." Harry actually frowned for a minute, knowing what Dumbledore was getting at. "I'm no exhibitionist, sir!" That caused Hermione to blush, and Mace to clear his throat. Cedric only grinned, earning a swat from Harry.

"Oh... professor, one more thing before you go. What about... well, Mace needs somewhere to sleep as well, and-"

"Ah. Professor Sprout did mention you had to take some rather extraordinary steps during the incident this afternoon." Dumbledore drew his wand, and gestured at the space in between Harry and Dean's bed, making a bit of extra space. In the space, he conjured up a sixth bed, which matched the others.

"Thanks, Professor," said Mace, with a nod.

"Have a pleasant evening." With that, Dumbledore Disapparated.

"Still freaky seeing you guys do that," said Mace, getting up. He quickly claimed the conjured bed.

"How... how are you feeling? Any left-over pain?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Good. I... I wasn't sure if I gave you enough blood... after seeing... after seeing Matt. Nearly passed out, you know. I... you should know. If... if you start experiencing, well, anything unusual... let me know."

"This ain't?"

That comment sent Harry off the deep end again, for it had been the same thing Matt had said months earlier, facing the same issue. All Cedric could do at this point was do his best to comfort his beyond distraught mate. Mace looked mortified, thinking he'd offended the guy somehow. Hermione and Ron looked equally confused. Harry finally fell asleep from the exhaustion of crying.

"What do we do, guys?" was Cedric's question.

"V-voldemort's gone," Hermione said, "Maybe go on a vacation somewhere."

"I doubt Harry's gonna be impressed with anything here on Earth. Fuck, nothing we've got here matches Pandora," Mace countered.

"But I think anywhere is better than Hogwarts right now," Hermione pressed on, "He doesn't need to be impressed, he needs a break from everything."

"Fair enough. Any of you know how to drive?"

"As in, a car? No. I turned sixteen in March, but really. No time for things in the Muggle world," answered Hermione, "And Ron... Ron grew up in the Wizarding world."

"Dad's fascinated by Muggle things though, and... we did rescue Harry in dad's enchanted car the summer before second year."

"Ron!" Mace, however, was intrigued. "Tell me."

That, resulted in the pair beginning an abbreviated tale about the trio's adventures up to this point, including the infamous flight in Mr. Weasley's illegally enchanted car. Mace was chuckling to himself, imagining coming across such a sight.

"Well, mum didn't think it was very funny. You haven't heard a woman yell 'till you've heard my mum."

"Ron, she only does because she cares," Hermione admonished.

"I know, but... I can do with less yelling."

POP. "Kreacher is bringing—Master Harry is sleeping now?"

"Yes, Kreacher. He's had a bad go of things today," answered Hermione.

"Kreacher is bringing Master Harry the portrait of his parents."

"So not everything was destroyed then. Harry'll be glad about that then," said Ron.

"Kreacher is recovering what he can."

"It's still sealed up? No one can get in, right?"

"No, Weasley, sir. The headmaster has seen to it. House-elves are not impeded by such things, however."

"Good, that's wonderful! Anything you can recover, we'll put it in my trunk for now," Hermione decided, "At least until Harry gets a new one."

* * *

The following morning, Harry's spirits were bolstered somewhat when Cedric told him about Kreacher recovering some things from the destroyed container. Unfortunately, it was short-lived as the group entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The noise level dropped, and Harry felt every pair of eyes in the room looking in his direction.

"Welcome to the snake den," Harry muttered, as they took seats in their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. Dean slid down, making room for Mace.

"Lots of exceptions being made for 'ya, mate," said Dean, "Dean Thomas."

"Troy Mace, but... just call me Mace."

"Right," Dean grinned.

"All right there, mate?" Neville asked, gesturing to Harry.

"Not really," Harry answered, "Just... numb right now."

"Harry, c'mon, it will get better," Cedric admonished, "Have some breakfast—more than that, Harry!" His mate had taken two slices of toast, and a single slice of bacon.

"Not hungry, Ced."

Then, the questions came.

"Is it true, you gave him blood in the middle of the greenhouse yesterday?" this from a Hufflepuff at the next table.

"Wait, isn't he a Muggle? Muggles aren't supposed to SEE Hogwarts let alone sit in the Great Hall with us!"

"Wizard giving a Muggle blood? I'll be sending a letter home..." Harry couldn't get a word in edge-wise, as the noise level again soared. Evan Mace could see the guy was about ready to explode. And then...

"Hem hem." Harry looked up to see Umbridge standing behind the group. "I think it's time we have a little chat, Mr. Potter." Mace knew this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

BANG! A burst of purple sparks erupted from the end of Harry's wand, as he rose from his seat. He was ready to rip someone a new arsehole, and he could not resist the target which presented itself.

"If everyone is done shredding my good deed for the day. First off, Professor Umbridge, you can go to hell. You are the worst Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this school has had in recent memory. Do you even have a NEWT in DADA? Actually I can answer that for you, since I actually checked. Tell me, how is it that a person is teaching a particular subject WITHOUT the required NEWT? No, the only reason you are here is because Cornelius Fudge planted you here, to meddle in affairs he has no business interfering in!" He gestured to the room at large. "All of you, every student here, is suffering because of your draconian teaching methods, professor. And quite frankly, I have had it up to HERE-" Harry gestured over his head, "-with whispers of you TORTURING people during your 'detentions'." A look of shock briefly crossed her face. "Your threats of expelling students, has done nothing more than further upset their year, while they do nothing but complain of your horrible methods. Your coworkers hate your guts, but they're too afraid to say it, worried you'll give them the sack. How am I doing so far, professor?"

"I've never..."

"I'm not done, you ignorant inbred wretch! Quite honestly, I've waited long enough. Delores Jane Umbridge. You are hereby expelled from this place. Hogwarts, please remove this woman!"

"Harry, no!" Dumbledore protested, but it was too late. There came a loud rumbling noise, as a flurry of trunks and belongings came whirling through the open doors to the Great Hall, to neatly stack themselves beside it.

"Ten minutes. Starting, NOW. I need not say, the wards will do it if you don't do it yourself."

"What—what nonsense..."

"Ten minutes, Delores." Dumbledore had joined them, realizing he needed to for now back up his student. The repercussions would be a nightmare, but for now...

"The minister will hear of this."

"Oh, I'm sure he will. You'll spill your lies, while you two have a good _snog_ in his office." There was a collective gasp from the student body, while Umbridge looked momentarily mortified. "Oh come off it, we all know you're in love with the man. Whether or not it's mutual, that remains to be seen... nine minutes."

"F-f-five hundred points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter..." and with that, the squat witch turned on heel, to collect her things parked by the door.

"The deductions are voided," said the headmaster, "And Delores, you are banished from the castle and the grounds, par Harry's instructions."

The disgraced professor collected her things, left the room, and closed the door behind her. And, as the doors at last banged closed, the entire Gryffindor table burst out into a standing ovation, which rapidly spread to two other tables, as well as some of the Slytherins. It took several minutes before everything settled down.

"Harry, as much as I do applaud your actions, you must see this is counter-productive. The minister will-"

"No, there's one more piece of business I need to do. _Expecto Patronum_." Harry's stag appeared. "Delores Umbridge has a blood quill in her possession. Please investigate." He then said, "To Amelia Bones." The stag bounded out the closed doors and vanished. "No, she won't be coming back. Anyone who's suffered one of her miserable detentions, write it down... date, time, how long. Give it to your head of house."

"I'll be sure to collect those and forward them to the DMLE. However, it still-"

"Professor." Harry got up, and walked up to the lectern. "Hogwarts has been my home, my real home... since I first came into the Wizarding world five years ago. That woman came in here, and has the nerve to call me... and some of you liars? I will call out ANYONE who calls me a liar. I was there, I saw him come back... just like I defeated him, just over a month ago. Voldemort is NOT coming back, EVER AGAIN. I slew him with help from my friend here-" he gestured to Mace, "-and watched him burn. And if anyone wants PROOF, I can share a pensieve memory. But don't call me a liar. I've saved the Wizarding world for the LAST time." Dumbledore stepped up to the lectern, as Harry stepped down. "With these developments, morning classes are canceled." He turned around. "We'll need to have a meeting immediately following breakfast."

"Blimey, Harry, you actually evicted her from the castle? I thought only the headmaster controlled the wards," said Neville.

"When have I ever been ordinary, Neville. Maybe the castle likes me." He felt bad for lying to one of his friends, but really, no one was supposed to know about his authority.

"No matter," said George from down the table,

"It was bloody brilliant!" Fred finished. Hermione, meanwhile, was clearly torn. One one hand, she strongly disapproved of how Harry had just dealt with the Ministry crony. On the other, she knew it had to happen eventually. She simply kept her mouth shut. Ron only grinned madly. Harry was a force to be reckoned with when he had his ire up.

"What would happen if she tried to come back?" Mace questioned, as he at last turned to his own breakfast.

"Wouldn't be able to get inside the wards. The school's got ancient wards around it." Harry dropped his voice to a whisper. "If I'd wanted to, I could have had the school toss her out on her arse, but, I didn't want to go that far. Her belongings being stacked at the door were bad enough as it is. Dumbledore's words were a nice touch though. It validated my... eviction." Hermione frowned at this.

"At least we might have a chance at a better DADA teacher," said Neville, "The woman was useless."

"Well, hate to spoil the fun, but it's quite possible Professor Snape will be taking over."

"What? I hope you're kidding, mate," said Dean.

"Trust me, he's qualified. I think Dumbledore might know someone who could take over potions," said Harry. Of course, he knew full-well it was more than likely Dumbledore would contact Horace Slughorn to fill the roll of potions professor. Given Voldemort had been destroyed for good, the pudgy man would likely be easily convinced.

As breakfast wrapped up, Professor McGonagall approached the group.

"Professor Dumbledore has passed word you will be away from the school this morning."

"Yes, Professor. I need a new wardrobe, and to replace my text books."

"You have my deepest sympathy." McGonagall inclined her head. "And Potter. Seventy-five points to Gryffindor, for that most inspiring action this morning."

"Thank you Professor," Harry grinned.

* * *

The trip to Diagon Alley ended up taking most of the day, since Harry needed just about everything. He only had the materials for his Tuesday schedule. Mace was more than amazed at the Wizarding shopping community, but took it all in stride. It was exactly like how Matt had taken to things, and in some ways, it made Harry's heart ache. Naturally, Cedric went along, as he was also at the age where he could be away from the school without a lot of red tape involved.

Returning to the school in late afternoon, Harry found himself once again summoned to the Headmaster's office, along with his new friend. Cedric, naturally, went with them once again.

"Licorice wands," said Harry, as they got to the stone gargoyle. It stepped aside, revealing the hidden staircase. "Ten to one it's Fudge."

"The minister of magic," Mace remembered, to which Harry gave a nod, and said, "Knowing how Umbridge works, she probably didn't even bother to go home with her belongings. She likely went squealing all the way to the minister, crying about my treachery, and likely Dumbledore's, considering he did back me up." They reached the top of the stairs, and Harry didn't know whether to grin or frown. Had it been a real bet, he would have won handily, as the minister's voice could be heard through the door. He chose to grin. "C'mon, let's go bake some fudge."

"...unacceptable, and bordering on criminal! A mere boy, expelling a teacher from the school, and you let him do it!"

"Be it as it may, I did have to agree with Mr. Potter's apt description of your High Inquisitor, Cornelius."

"As minister for magic-"

"Professor?" said Harry, interrupting whatever Fudge was about to say. He, Cedric, and Mace stepped into the office. The minister had arrived with not one, but four Aurors, dressed in their crimson robes. At least one was on Harry's side: Kingsley Shacklebolt. There were two others he didn't recognize, but the last one was John Dawlish, a supporter of Voldemort.

"Ah, Harry, Mr. Mace, and Mr. Diggory. Good of you to join us."

"We did not need Mr. Diggory present," Fudge objected.

"Too bad. As my mate and soon to be partner, he's staying. Oh. Auror Dawlish. Good of you to join us." A sharp gesture from his hand, and the Auror's sleeve was banished, revealing a fading dark mark. Dumbledore stunned him before he realized what happened.

"Really, minister. Allowing yourself to be surrounded by those who supported Voldemort?"

"The rest of you. Show my your arms. Now. Or you'll join your former co-worker," Harry hissed, his wand at the ready.

"I object-"

"Auror Vesper, do as he asks," said Dumbledore, quietly. The man, a shorter, dark-skinned man, glared at the boy-who-Lived, but complied, revealing an unblemished left forearm. Likewise, for the rest of them.

"I'm sure the Prophet will have a thing or two to say about that, Minister," said Harry, lightly, "You really need to pull your neck out of the sand, or we will face another Voldemort. Not now, or in a few years, but a generation? Ten years maybe? And quite honestly, I won't raise a finger. The Wizarding world is responsible for its own problems from here out."

"He-who-must-not-be-named is GONE, Potter! He's not coming back!"

"No, you're right. He's not. But thing is, he WAS back. As I'm sure Dawlish here could tell you. I have to wonder. Is Madam Umbridge a Death Eater? How about your protege, Percy? Have you checked his arm lately? See, the thing is, you have no clue how many people in your own office, let alone the Ministry itself, are Death Eaters, or in some ways support the Dark Lord's work. Voldemort may be gone, but it doesn't mean THEY aren't."

"That's not your concern, Mr. Potter."

"I disagree, Minister. The people who work for the Ministry, the people who make decisions about our society most certainly SHOULD be mine concern, as well as everyone else's. Mind you, as I've already said, I'm just about done with Wizarding Britain. I've finished my job. Now I want to finish my education, and move on. Be married to my mate, find a quiet place, and grow old together. Is that too much of an expectation?"

"But... but..."

"But what? You have no power over me. You never did. I was just too blind to see it."

"Ah, but that is where you would be wrong, Mr. Potter. Aurors, place him under arrest."

"For what?" Harry acutally sneered, edging a little closer to Mace. Cedric picked up on Harry's motion, and closed the gap between them.

"For impersonating a school official, leveling untrue allegations against the Undersecretary, and sedition."

Harry burst out laughing. "You're mad, old man. You've gone 'round the twist! I'll bet ten Galleons your beloved undersecretary is enjoying the confines of a Ministry holding cell, while the Aurors ransack her home looking for more dark objects to charge her with having."

"Now you listen here-"

"No, you listen here, moron," Harry seethed, "GET. OUT."

BANG. The pudgy man in his lime-green bowler hat was instantly vanished from the office.

"Harry! You have only made things worse for yourself," said Dumbledore, a sad look crossing his face.

"I don't care. Professor, I think... the writing is on the wall. If I stay, it'll be the same thing ten years from now." He bowed his head. "I really wanted to finish my schooling here."

"I could keep you hidden-"

"No, professor. I won't go through that again. I lived through it once already." He snatched up an empty page of parchment from the headmaster's desk, and began writing. The office fell deathly silent, the only sounds of the quill scratching against parchment, and the occasional snort or cough from one of the portraits above.

Finally, he finished, and passed over the parchment. "Never thought I would be leaving Hogwarts this way... but really... sir, even you have to admit, it's for the best."

"I do wish you would reconsider," said Dumbledore, sadly. He knew what he was about to read, but as his position required, he read it:

_Headmaster Dumbledore:_

_I, Harry James Potter, do hereby withdraw from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, effective immediately. Due to circumstances of personal nature, along with the increasing public pressures, both inside and outside of the school, I feel it is no longer appropriate for me to continue classes._

(Harry had signed his name at the bottom)

Harry stood, waiting for his mentor to finish reading. Cedric, meanwhile, had also grabbed a page of parchment, to scribble out a similar notice. If Harry was leaving Hogwarts, then so was he.

"Where will you go now, Harry?"

"Right now? I don't know. Off the top of my head, possibly Vancouver. See if I might locate a couple of cool blokes I met over there a few years ago. I would like to continue my classes, at least by owl. And if I ever get my trunk put to rights again, all of you will be welcome there."

"I had hoped you would at least wish to stay in contact."

"Professor-"

"Now that you are no longer a student, please call me Albus." Dumbledore absently accepted Cedric's notice, giving him a half-nod. It was to be expected, after all.

"Now that's gonna be strange." Harry let a half-grin form on his face, but it quickly vanished, and he felt two hands grip his shoulders in support.

"No, strange will be a school year without you."

"If we are done here," said Vesper.

"Yes. And do be sure to write up appropriate charges for Mr. Dawlish," said Dumbledore.

"We'll see to it, Albus," said Shacklebolt. Harry watched, as they all left through the floo.

"There is no chance you'll reconsider?"

Harry only shook his head. "I'm tired professor. I'm twenty-seven, but I feel about forty. In the past month, I've lost my my home, two of my partners, my godfather, my honorary godfather, my sanctuary, a fistful of friends, and now... a place I saw as a second home—"

"You will always be welcome at Hogwarts, Harry."

"To visit, I know. But I won't spend another night under its roof after tonight. I would at least take an opportunity to say my goodbyes."

"Naturally."

"The point being, I'm through fighting. I've done what I was born to do. Now it's time for me to live; the Wizarding world will have to look after itself."

* * *

_November 2, 1995_

Harry was moved by the number of people, both teachers and students, who met him at the front doors to the castle. He carried nothing, as everything he now owned was shrunken down and stuffed in his pockets. Cedric and Mace flanked him, as he passed through the doors, out into the courtyard.

Each of his teachers all said good bye, with, surprisingly, Snape being last.

"You were more than adequate in class, Harry," he said, honestly.

"Thank you, professor. Being in your class was difficult, but... I know you had your reasons. Once... once I get my trunk settled again, I'll invite you through so you can... so you can speak to my mother more. It was one of the few things not destroyed."

Snape actually gave a genuine smile. "I will look forward to your missive, then."

Ron and Hermione were last, and both were actually in tears. Hermione, of course he expected that. But Ron? He was more than touched. Unfortunately, they were still under aged, and Hell would freeze over before Molly would allow him to withdraw from school. It was likely an identical situation with Hermione's parents.

"You will write us?"

"As often as I can," Harry promised, "Guys, you were my second and third friends in the Wizarding world. I mean, we're no longer peers, but you guys will ALWAYS be my friends. I hope... in a few years' time, all of us can all be together again."

"Never mind we do have a wedding to plan," said Cedric. That got a wide smile from Harry, the first one in some time.

"True enough, and I'll want you guys there."

"I'll miss you, Harry."

"Same here, mate." The trio reunited one final time, in a crushing three-way hug.

They finally separated, and Harry stepped back to join Cedric and Mace. "Good bye, Ron, Hermione." He looked first at Mace, then at Cedric. "Ready guys?" They gripped Harry by the shoulder, and they vanished with a soft POP.

* * *

_Hogwarts_

_June 28, 1998_

The term had ended over two weeks prior, but the castle was again abuzz, with Cedric and Harry's wedding. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, with only a few white fluffy clouds to break up the blue sky. A large tent had been erected on the lawn down by the lake, with seating set up for a select group of guests. The list had been relatively short, with perhaps a hundred people at best. The ceremony itself was rather simple, with the same small, tufty-haired wizard he remembered presiding over Dumbledore's funeral the first time around, overseeing the ceremony.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the sing-songy voice, "We are gathered here today on this fine afternoon, to witness the union of these two souls, Harry _Black_, and Cedric Diggory." He put a hand on each shoulder as he said so.

Mace had to smile, seeing his closest friends at last making it official. He saw Harry as a brother in just about every sense of the term. The wizard was immensely protective of him. Cedric was just a step below that, and the trio did just about everything together. Harry had started using the last name Black, although his father had at first frowned at the idea. Harry had not so elegantly pointed out, it wouldn't matter which name he used, since there would never be any offspring.

The intervening two years since their abrupt decision to leave the school had been a real eye-opener. It had been well over a month before Mace had his first experience of accidental magic. Harry was somewhere between overjoyed, and crushed, but Mace knew the reason: it reminded Harry too much of his lost mate. Still, Harry was more than happy to help him understand what it meant to have magic, and as he continued to study and prepare for his OWLs, he began to teach Mace the basics, much like he'd done for Matt.

On a hunch, Harry had Mace test Voldemort's wand, and to his surprise, it worked beautifully. Both Mace and Cedric were confused, but Harry clarified. It had been Mace who had actually incapacitated Tom, and therefore, in the wand's eye, he had defeated him.

Naturally, as soon as it was possible, Harry took him out to purchase a more appropriate wand, and had him snap the Yew wand immediately after. Too many evil acts had been committed with it, after all.

Harry did sit his OWL exams at the end of the school year in 1996, getting permission to sit with his former classmates. His scores were better than he'd hoped for, scoring one of the highest marks ever in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Snape, being unbiased with his scoring, also awarded Harry an 'Outstanding' on his potions exam. The young wizard had more than earned it, after all.

That summer, while visiting the Wizarding community in Toronto, they had run across a shop specializing in Wizarding camping gear. There, Harry once again procured a special trunk, much like the one he had started out with. With Cedric's help, the trunk was once again made into a home, and Harry welcomed home his two loyal house-elves.

Mace let his mind wander back to the number of people sitting around him. Each and every one of them was a friend, as each of them stood up for the dark-haired wizard at one point or another. Ron and Hermione sat right beside him, with his brothers just a few seats down. Neville sat on his other side, with a few more of his year mates going further down the row. Most of Harry's former teachers were also in attendance, including a certain potions master. The headmaster himself, of course, was there, his face aglow with the happy occasion. The aging headmaster was more than pleased to see Harry be happy and free. They had been in constant contact since they'd left the school two and a half years prior.

Of course, the fireplace in their new home made such contact much easier. Between Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore, Mace was getting a one-on-one education in magic. Naturally, Harry, Cedric, and more recently, Ron and Hermione were more than happy to teach as well.

Hermione was still trying to talk Harry into taking over as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts—Slughorn was grumbling about wanting to retire again—but Harry resisted. This day was the first time Harry had actually been back in Wizarding Britain in any official capacity. Sure, he'd been through the floo to visit with the headmaster, but that was about the extent. As far as the Wizarding public knew, this was the first time Harry was back in the country.

Of course, Mace knew the real answer: Harry missed one place more than any other: Pandora. Mace, too, missed it, nearly as much as he missed a much older friend—he at last admitted it to himself, he loved Capa as a brother. Who couldn't, after spending eighteen months stuck in the tight confines of inner-stellar vessel? They fought like an old married couple at times, and that was just the thing.

"...and so, without further adieu, I do introduce, Harry James Black, and Cedric Diggory-Black," said the small wizard. Cedric smiled and leaned in, and the pair crushed together in a scorching kiss, while the onlookers stood, giving a raucous ovation. With that, the wizard tapped the pair on the head, and a golden swirl of magic enveloped the pair, as though sealing their bond. "Now, if you will all stand..."

"Harry," said Dumbledore, as the reception at last wound down, "I believe Fawkes may have a wonderful wedding gift for you. Won't you come up to my office a minute?"

"Sure."

"Have you decided where you will be spending your honeymoon?"

"No, sir. Mace has suggested a couple of locations, so we're still considering... and I've got a few places in mind as well," Harry answered.

"I do believe, then, Fawkes may have a place that will be better than any of those. Take my arm, the three of you."

Seconds later, the group found themselves in the headmaster's office. "Sir, there's only one place I truly dream about that could best the suggestions I've been given."

"And I think I might know where. Fawkes has indicated to me he may be able to help."

"But sir, the connection closed! I know it, I've tried sending both Kreacher AND Dobby there... neither can find their way."

"But Fawkes is no ordinary magical creature, is he?"

"He's not been there."

"He doesn't need to. He apparently already knows the way," answered Dumbledore. "There is, however, one problem. This will most likely be a one-way trip. Given you no longer have the Temporal Displacement Device in your possession, the floo will likely not work."

"So this is good bye for real then," said Mace.

"It is, that is if what Harry wants to do."

Mace could see it in his eyes. The young wizard was truly torn. They most certainly had a lot of friends here, given the number of people who had just attended the wedding. But, for each one there, he knew there were a fistful more who despised Harry, whether it be for personal reasons, envy, or some other garbage.

The Wizarding world was in the midst of a wholesale change, thanks to the spearhead of Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Fudge had been booted out of office before Christmas break rolled around, and even now, sat waiting trial in a Ministry holding cell. Dozens of Ministry employees had joined him, for various reasons, many of which were branded Death Eaters. Even the Wizengamot itself was undergoing a forced change, as the same dig for the truth was being applied there. It was not a good time to be a supporter of the dark side. Amelia was the interim minister, until they could get a proper session of the Wizengamot under way to choose someone permanent. That, of course, would not happen until the corrupt officials had been removed. Good luck with that, Mace snorted in his head. Even where he came from, corruption was certainly an issue.

That, however, didn't matter to Harry. The Wizarding world had burned him for the last time two and a half years prior. And, with a glance to both his now official mate, and to Mace, Harry answered, "It... it's time for us to go, professor. If I could make a memory for you to share with everyone..."

It was a lengthy message, with final good byes to a good number of people, after all. That finished, Dumbledore came out from behind his desk, offering a hand to Harry. He was shocked, when the young wizard threw his arms around the aged headmaster. "I'll miss you, Albus!"

"I'll miss you too, Harry." They embraced for nearly a half minute, before Harry at last broke away.

"Fawkes, if you will. Mr. Mace. Don't let up on your studies. You're becoming a fine young wizard yourself. And Mr. Diggory-Black. Do look after Harry for us."

"Count on it, professor." Fawkes had floated down to sit on the edge of the desk, his tail feathers offered.

"Bee in your bonnet, Mr. Black. Best of luck to you," the sorting hat called.

"And to you. Good bye everyone." He grasped the offered tail feathers, as did Cedric. Mace quickly caught on, and as he touched it, the trio vanished in a flash of golden flames, and a musical cry.

"Good bye, Fawkes," Dumbledore whispered, "Look after Harry for us."

* * *

_28th Last Seed, 4E201_

_Ruins of Ustengrav, SE of Solitude_

_Skyrim Province, Tamriel_

It had been more than difficult, forcing his way through the shattered Nordic ruins which contained the tomb of Jurgen Windcaller. The Greybeards had sent him on an errand to fetch the famed Horn belonging to the creator of the Greybeards, and so here he was.

Mazhe was a tall but muscular Breton who had been born in Ivarstead, but lived most of his life up to this point in Riften, a small city in the southeast part of the province. Well-practiced in both the magical arts and the art of stealth, he joined the Thieves Guild as soon as he was able to. Brynjolf, one of the guild's lieutenants, had recruited him on the spot—considering the kid had picked the master theif's pocket—in broad daylight. Now THAT was something.

His life had taken a rather dramatic turn several weeks prior, when he had been caught by the Imperial Legion, crossing the border after making a run into Chorral. They'd had him and a bunch of Stormcloak rebels lined up for the chopping block, when the unthinkable had happened: a dragon, of all things. Mazhe had made quick his escape, following a few Stormcloaks out through a passageway beneath Helgen.

His journey had taken him to the small town of Riverwood, where he already knew a good number of people there for different reasons. They pointed him to Whiterun, the hold capital, and shortly thereafter, he was forced to confront one of the scaly beasts directly. It was there, he discovered he was something out of Nord legend: Dragonborn. That resulted in another hike up seven thousand steps, to High Hrothgar, the stronghold residence of the Greybeards, the masters of 'the voice'. The power of a shout was truly awesome to wield, and they were willing to teach him how to harness it.

Which brings us back to the present. Mazhe at last approached the tomb, etched with the symbols of the dragon language—and to his frustration, found not a horn, but a note. He snarled in frustration, as he read it. Someone was going to die.

His attention was momentarily diverted to an object resting inside a coffin which had been busted open, the Draugr inside of it already dead. It was about two feet long, and roughly eight inches in diameter. The amount of energy radiating from it was incredible. He'd certainly touched more than a few magical artefacts, so this was nothing new. Curious, he reached down, and picked it up. 'Never seen anything like this before. Wonder what it's worth?' he thought, 'I'll see what Delvin thinks of it.' With that thought, he pulled a chain on the back wall, opening a doorway that would hopefully lead him back out of the tomb. There was potential money to be made, after all! The instrument now in his pack, though, certainly had other ideas...

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: And so, the story itself ends. I only have one more part to post, the Epilogue._

_Mazhe is a character I did play through Skyrim with, although I have for now retired him. It was fun creating a small back story for him... and no, he's not a pleasant person._


	54. Epilogue

_Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!_

_Posted February 29, 2012_

* * *

**-EPILOGUE-**

* * *

"Harry? Oh Merlin..." The redhead practically flew across the room and launched himself at the younger wizard. The guy had changed very little in the few years they had been separated. They actually fell to the ground, locked in a death grip.

"Bill... oh, Bill..."

"Room for me too?" Cedric grinned, offering a hand to the pair, and hoisting them back to their feet. Bill finally got himself sorted, and pressed a finger to his radio. "Break break, magic one returned, magic one returned." Harry, of course, could not hear the traffic, but from Bill's grin, it was a good sign. "Control tower at Hell's gate... yeah, he's here too. Sure... no doubt there."

Within minutes, the control tower became rather busy, with the number of people wishing to greet their missing friends. While Harry, Cedric, and Bill got caught up, it was Mace's turn to get slightly misty-eyed, as Capa came thundering through the entry. The two of them actually embraced, before Mace put him at arm's length like a parent might do a child after not seeing them for some time.

"You... you've changed a bit," said Mace, gesturing to his hair, which had easily grown down below his shoulders. The guy was well-tanned, and slightly more muscular, clearly from being outside a fair bit.

"You... you haven't, though... what's that?" It hadn't taken him long to spot the holster strapped to Mace's right arm. Mace simply gave his wrist a flick, and his wand popped into his hand.

"_Lumos_." A solid light lit from the end of it.

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Harry's doing. Gave me blood in well... just, fucking crazy shit went down, I nearly died."

"And now you can do magic?"

"Harry's teachers were pretty cool. Gonna miss their lessons though. _Nox_." The light gone, he then flicked his wrist again, and the wand was returned to its holster.

"So you guys married?"

"We didn't think we'd ever get back here," Harry was explaining, "We just..."

"Moved on best we could," Cedric picked up, "I know you were in the back of Harry's mind all the time. Getting cut off from the lot of you, it really hurt... and even me somewhat, although I've not been here nearly as much as Harry, or Bill, or..."

"Where's Matt?"

"Let's... go into my new trunk. Best we're all sitting and comfortable before we get into that." Harry pulled his trunk out of the pocket of his robes, and put it against the wall, then re-sized it. He then made an intricate pattern with his hand, causing the trunk to glow green for a moment. "All right, come on."

Bill could hardly believe it, and neither could Capa, for that matter. Mace had returned to the trunk to fetch a set of notes he'd left behind, and that was it. Bill had been equally mortified, seeing everything come undone. It had taken most of the afternoon for Harry, Cedric, and Mace to explain the intervening two years and some, all requiring a calming draught at one point or another.

"So Fawkes was just able to bring you here?"

"Pretty much. We won't ever be able to go back, and it's not likely anyone else will be able to join us here."

"Harry, that also means..." Bill gestured to Fawkes, who was then resting on the back of a chair, head tucked under his wing.

"That man!" Harry cursed, "...not that I don't like Fawkes, but..."

"He's already formed a bond with you, Harry. It was truly the best gift the old man could have given you," Bill pointed out, "You said it yourself so long ago. The man does care about you a great deal." His eyes were still very red from the tears he'd shed more than a few times, but he gave his mate a smile. "You're here. That's what he wanted to accomplish, even though it cost him his familiar." That made Harry smile. "Guess you're right. Doesn't mean the man doesn't infuriate me sometimes—" There came a light thump from one of the rooms. Harry's wand was instantly out. It could be Kreacher or Dobby cleaning, but... he stood up. "Mace... take Capa back outside the trunk, please."

"Sure." Capa found himself being led up the ladder and out of the trunk.

"Right. _Homenum revelio_," Harry cast. Two figures were hiding in one of the spare rooms.

"With me." Harry indicated for Cedric and Bill to follow, and pushed into the room.

"Surprise!" Both Ron and Hermione were standing in the middle of the room, two large trunks behind them.

"Merlin... but..."

"Dumbledore, of course!" Hermione answered, "He talked to us a few days before the wedding. Of course we were coming! Mum and dad needed some convincing, but, they came around eventually."

"You didn't Obliviate them?"

"Harry! Are you mad? Of course I didn't! Why would you suggest that?"

"Well, you did in my... well... never mind... and Ron! What about your mum? She's probably spare by now!"

"No, everything's okay. Dumbledore actually talked to her as well. Took lots of convincing as well... likely more than Hermione's parents, but... we're with you 'till the end, Harry. Can't get rid of us that easy, mate!" Harry found himself tackled again by his dear friends.

"Bill... go find Mace and Capa. God, thought there was an intruder. But..." The trio separated. Harry continued, "How did you guys get here... I mean, you were just at the reception..."

"When Dumbledore apparated you up to his office, that was our cue. We had port keys that would bring us here. Dumbledore's had it planned for weeks."

Harry only grinned, as the group went back out into the common room to join the others. Mace arched an eyebrow, seeing Harry's oldest friends, but it was quickly explained to him what had happened. Mace was somewhat impressed with the old man's planning. Of all the things Harry had gotten for his wedding, that given by Albus Dumbledore trumped all of them.

"Harry, here," said Norm, "New radio set. There's a few out there who would love to hear your voice." Harry quickly put on the radio set, then the ear clip, and pressed a finger against his throat. "Magic one, over."

More than a few happy shouts came back across the channel, as friends both human and Na'vi greeted him in friendship.

"Harry, you must come visit us. Meet us at the Tree of Souls tomorrow morning. We will show you our new home tree."

"I would love to, Jake. You and Neytiri are well?"

"More than well," Jake laughed.

"Then it's a date. I'll see you in the morning."

Given it wasn't possible to fly everyone to the new location at once, only Harry flew there with Jake and Neytiri. Then he apparated himself back to the Tree of Souls, and collected the rest of the group.

Their first home tree was enormous. The one they now had was beyond enormous, easily one and a half times the size. Both Mace and Capa were stunned speechless at the size of the tree. It was easily as high as a skyscraper!

"Fuck, this thing has to be at least fourteen-hundred feet!"

"We figure about four-hundred and seventy-two meters—seventeen-hundred feet."

"Beats the shit out of anything that ever lived, I think," said Capa, shaking his head, "Well, maybe something back during the time of the dinosaurs, but... nothing recent. And where we come from... too cold for many trees to survive. Cory could've told us."

"One of Norm's guys would know," said Jake, "C'mon, I'll show you to the common area."

The common area up on the second level was designed much like it had been in their old home tree, with an enormous fire pit in the centre. He momentarily winced, as old memories came flooding back, memories of the group crashed out after a night of indulging, with Matt sick from the alcohol. He struggled to push those memories back into their right places.

"Bill. Cedric and I are already joined, but now... now we're here... I'd like to do it over, with the both of you."

"I am still engaged to you, Harry. Why would I back out of that now? You did the best you could, managed the best you could. So the question, where and when?"

That night, the entire Omaticaya clan was present at the Tree of Souls, their queues plugged into the ground, while Harry, Cedric, and Bill stood before Mo'at, and the gnarled, ancient tree. Once again, their friends took flank around them, this time with Hermione and Ron on one side, Mace and Capa on the other.

Mo'at began speaking, "Harry Black, you stand before us, and before Eywa, to take these two men, to always be bound unconditionally, until you become one with Eywa. Do you stand here of your own accord?"

"I do."

"And equally, do you, William Weasley, also stand here, of your own accord, to be bound to these two others, Harry Black, and Cedric Diggory?"

"I do."

"And you, Cedric Diggory, do you stand here of your own accord, to be bound to these two men, Harry Black, and William Weasley?"

"I so do."

"Do join your hands." Harry, Cedric, and Bill brought their hands together before Mo'at. Mo'at connected her queue to one of the tendrils, speaking, "Great Mother Eywa. Bless these three human beings, friends of Pandora, spirits of your making. May they be bound now until death, until their spirits are called back to you, and their bodies lay in the ground for the final time." A tremendous pulse shot through the assembled mass, to collect in the joined hands, as a swirl of pink magic enveloped the trio.

"Eywa has blessed all of you, and I do name all of you, joined until death."

"So mote it be," Harry whispered.

"So mote it be," said Cedric.

"So mote it be," said Bill.

"_So mote it be_," Harry heard one more voice whisper, that belonging to Matt. "_Harry. Be happy. Don't cry for me, I'm in a better place now. But I'll always be with you. Always..._" his voice became fainter. "_Always_." Another powerful pulse shot back away from the now joined trio, out to the perimeter of the circle, where it dissipated. Harry separated a hand from the union, and let a tendril from the tree twirl around a finger. "Thank you, Eywa."

His world again faded to white, and he found himself before the same robed woman.

"Harry. I am sorry you have suffered so much. There are things that should not have been allowed to happen, that did, as much as we all fought to prevent them."

"Thank you. For at least letting me know... he's okay."

"It was the least I could do. Do not allow your heart to ache too long. Do not mourn the dead, child, they feel no pain." Harry looked to his left, seeing Bill and Cedric fade into view. "The three of you are strong, and it was their strength which brought you through the nightmare you lived, to the daylight of the hereafter." Hermione, Ron, Mace, Capa, Jake, and Neytiri faded into view to his right. "Your long list of friends were equal in helping you to complete your destiny. Now you are free from both of your destinies. Make the best of this life, Harry. You have so much to live for, if this small group of people does indicate." Harry bowed his head, but he smiled, knowing the Great Mother was right. No more cosmic treasure hunt. No more Voldemort killing his lovers and friends. No one else had to die for him.

"You may be interested to know, the ancestors of magic have given the chore to someone else."

"But..."

"The device wasn't meant to be destroyed. But by their errors, they admit, you would no longer be suitable to be their champion."

"I wish him luck. He's gonna need it." It was with that, the scene faded.

"You spoke to the Great Mother," said Mo'at. It wasn't a question. Harry nodded vigorously. "And Matt..." He smiled again. "Matt says he's okay... and I'm okay with that. Oh, and guys... the Temporal Displacement Device was-"

"Destroyed. We put it in the payload," said Capa, but Harry only shook his head. "Eywa said it can't be destroyed. Either way, they gave it to someone else, so it's not my problem."

"Good luck, he's gonna need it," said Bill. Harry smirked, and they burst out laughing.

"Well... what now?"

"What now, brother? You just got married, man! We eat, we drink, we dance!" Jake exclaimed, shouting something extra in Na'vi. There were many shouts and whoops from the assembled mass.

"Well, good. Maybe we can get Mace to kiss Capa again," Harry smirked. The look on the pair's face was priceless.

"NO, no, no, only kissing going on around here is like so..." Bill seized Harry's face, and they locked lips together. Cedric wrapped his arms around the pair, as the crowd again sent up happy shouts confirming the union.

-_Finite_

* * *

_AUTHOR NOTES: Thank you to everyone who has followed TBI-RL from the beginning. It has been an absolute blast to write, although at times getting the words to flow was like herding cats..._

_I do know there are likely a whole whack of plot-holes, loose ends, and other nonsense, but this story is two years old, and has most definitely run its course. I most certainly did handle things somewhat in the method intended, and that final scene above, I'd planned from the moment I first started writing the Avatar incursion. To have them standing in the bioilluminecence, bonding before the Great Mother, it just had to be a poetic, beautiful end. Most unfortunate Matt didn't make it._

_Which of course, brings me to the number of character deaths in the last few chapters. It was done as a catalyst, and to also streamline things. Harry was most certainly shattered by the number of close people around him being killed, but the intervening two years would have given him time to heal. And of course, his reaction at breakfast the morning after the trunk crashing through the greenhouse... he'd snapped in a bad way at that point, resulting in more fallout. Meantime, fewer characters around meant less to think about... where is character A & so on._

_Anyway, I do sign off, I do thank you for reading, and now that you've gotten this far, do me a favour and click that review button, let me know what you think. It only takes a few seconds, right?_

_And with that..._

**_Finite Incantatem_**


End file.
